


Every Breath You Take

by ShannonRona



Category: Actor RPF, RPF - Fandom, Robert Downey Jr - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Iron Man 3, Marvel Universe, RDJ, RPF, Robert Downey Jr - Freeform, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-30 01:53:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 129
Words: 478,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14486250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShannonRona/pseuds/ShannonRona
Summary: Written on request.  A reader x RDJ fan fiction.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own no characters or people in this story. I claim no rights to anything at all. This story is purely written for free enjoyment via request from a follower, and I honestly have no intel on how people act behind closed doors, either.
> 
> Background Info: Set before Iron Man 3 was made (around 2011?). Main character is 29 - Robert is 47. Susan and family just don't exist in this plot...I don't have it in my heart to write anything badly of them (before you guys get all Harry/Harmony on me, I know I used badly incorrectly and just don't care). This is done upon request; I really don't think it's appropriate to write about an actual person like this...characters are another thing, obviously. HOWEVER, I don't like turning away requests either, so...yeah. If it starts to feel too weird writing it I'll place it on hold. Have at it.

Weddings.

Not really my thing. They're full of love and pep and fake happiness from people like me, who have never experienced such. Shit, I sound cynical. Maybe I should rephrase that.

Let's get you caught up, I guess. Before here - here being Malibu, celebrating the lovely marriage of my distant cousin - my life was pretty boring. To be honest, it still is. This is kinda a temporary step, until I have to go back home.

Home. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, to be exact. Not the worst, but nothing like LA. There are still hills and cliffs and water and tall buildings, but it's definitely not as busy as California. And if you're not a sports fan, forget about fitting in; good thing I rep my hockey team like wearing my heart on my sleeve. The winters are cold, and last about seven or eight months of the year. I'm serious. And the sun doesn't exist in those months, either, but you're pretty used to it if you're a native; the summer nights when it finally does warm up more than make up for it. It's an acquired taste, I suppose, but it's where I lived for the entire 29 years of my life.

So, what brings me here? Well, back to the story line...

My uh...great cousin or second cousin or something or other, I honestly forget most of the time, asked me to sing at her reception. Did I mention I do that in my free time? Like, a band and some crappy quality demo discs... I've yet to earn from it, but I'm not one to turn down a gig. A job in that field would easily let me quit my boring day job: running accounting paperwork for ten hours a day. God, do I want to get out of that, and it's Malibu. No place better to get your feet wet.

The wedding itself was actually pretty decent. They held it outside, on the beach. Cliche, I know. But now we walked back up to the small, gated road where the homes reside, and the reception was a little more relaxed. The guest house they used has a big, open courtyard, surrounded by tall walls and a few fruit trees. I guess the property is sort of secluded, but despite doing a couple shows a month, I still get a little nervous in front of crowds, so the open air is a little nerve wracking. Regardless, I did a couple of their favorite songs; two or three slow ones, a couple 80s hits the two loved, and your usual, mid tempo wedding mix. Thank God only one of my friends is here, or I wouldn't have been confident enough for that long.

Speaking of, a little background on all these people I'm ranting on about... Here's what you need to know. My aunt and uncle own these properties - they do some big business with investments and stocks and all that jazz downtown. The big tall building with the letters on it? Yeah, that's their company. I'm not too familiar with them, to be honest. We didn't travel much while I was growing up, so I didn't get the chance to get to know them until I became and adult and made the trips out on my own. They've got all the ties, if you couldn't tell by the beach front homes; celebrity neighbors, charity board seats, sports connections... It's normal to them, but seeing Tom Hanks grab a drink from the open bar still makes me do a double take as I watch it happen. Anyway...their daughter, Sarah - the one getting married - and their son both reside in the LA area, which means this wedding is packed full of their own friends and family, as well...and trust me, it's a big family.

I sip at some water before beginning the last song of the set - Love Bites by Def Leppard. Ironic, right? For a wedding? I'm just filling the requests, so don't look at me. Give the bride what she wants, they said, that's the only rule.

At this point, no one's really paying attention besides a few swaying couples anyway...food is about to be served, which means most of the guests are now at the tables. I focus on that while I finish up the last chorus before the band takes over with some acoustics.

"Thank you," I mutter emptily into the mic, met with a small applause.

I shrug internally; it's good enough for now. I get to enjoy the scene with my friend for the rest of the evening, so I wander over to our assigned table and plop down in the seat next to her, grabbing to share her wine from her glass placed in front of her.

"You know there's an open bar, right?" she teases, cocking an eyebrow as she watches me take a second gulp.

"Haven't gotten there yet," I toss back, but set it back down in front of her. "How bad was it?"

"What, the set? Terrible."

I roll my eyes and groan. "Seriously, Devin! You know I hate the spotlight."

"I was kidding. And yet you want to be in a band," she laughs and pushes the rest of the glass back to me. "You're right, you need it more."

"I'll get you another after they serve us," I promise.

She's something else, really. Thin, a few inches shorter than myself... Her auburn hair lays just below her shoulders, and her amber eyes almost match it in the sunlight. Nothing like me; I think mine's dyed black currently, but I honestly lose track...I change it too much. It's still long, though, almost to my waist, and I start thinking maybe it's time to get it cut... I flick my hazel eyes back to the glass when the toasts begin, twirling it in my hands as I debate the option silently until they finish and dinner is served.

"So, what, no one exciting invited?" Devin asks, stuffing a forkful of some weird kale salad into her mouth at the same time.

I shrug. "I saw Hanks earlier."

"That's it?" She's clearly disappointed. "No Taylor Swift or Snoop Dog or..."

I can't help but laugh as she goes down a list of the friends they've met through charity, some of which happen to be her favorite musicians.

"Guess not," I cut her off and take a sip of our newly replenished wine.

"No...Owen Grady?"

She jabs me in the side, causing me to cough and set the glass down.

"Trust me," I whisper, a smirk creeping back into my face. "If they knew Chris Pratt I'd know about it."

Pouting, she sits back in her chair, all hope drained from her.

"I guess I'll settle for the basics..."

"You're a 'basic'," I snicker, and it draws a gasp from her.

"Hey! Rude."

"Yet true... We both are."

She knows I've won, or so I think, so I grin and finish off my drink...until she nods over my shoulder, where the lights are back on the stage.

"Does your aunt sing, too?" Devin asks in a hushed tone from my side.

I shake my head. "Not that I know of. I mean, I think they have a piano, but no clue if she plays."

I focus on what she's saying, though it's hard to hear over the bustle of the gathered people as they finish off their dinners. We're in the corner of the lawn space, trying to avoid the crowd at all costs. That, and Devin wanted to have the best view for scouting out the interesting guests. I don't mind it.

"This one," my aunt Erin speaks into the microphone in her hand, "is one of Sarah and Rachel's favorites, or so I've heard. So, as a thank you, Rach..."

She puts the microphone back into the stand as she says my name, almost begging me to come on stage. I sigh as my shoulders drop and I shake my head and mouth 'maybe a little later?' to her. Despite that, the music starts, and her back is toward me as she walks back down to her husband, who is schmoozing with some big name I can't put a name to, though I think I've seen him before; an actor, or something...probably lives nearby.

"Uh, Rach, I think that's your queue," Devin says over the backing acoustics that pick up, but instead of replying, I nearly choke on the sip of my wine I take when I hear the song.

A very specific rendition of an 80s tune...one I'm not even sure Sarah has really ever heard, but it was a possibility...considering the original artist is one of their neighbors. Maybe she knows that rendition, but not this. This...is from a TV show, and an older one, at that. One she probably hasn't seen unless she adores one of the leads as much as myself. Groaning, I realize there are only a couple of bars until the lines start and no one's up there to sing it, so I have just a few seconds to get my ass back up on the stage. I make it, but barely, and suck in a breath quickly to start the words.

Honestly, I don't know what was happening at this point, because instead of my own voice ringing out, I hear the vocals, as they should be, sung from the original pair of lips that had recorded this version. Why was I summoned up if they were just playing a recording? I swallow down my own voice, now feeling a bit embarrassed, and search out Devin, thinking she'd give me some kind of backup. Instead, her eyes are wide and her mouth agape. I look around wildly, for aunt Erin, or Sarah, or...anyone, but with no luck from the blinding sun as it slowly sets ahead of me. Finally, my eyes travel to the other side of the stage, and low and behold, there he is.

Robert freaking Downey Jr. The man himself. Not a recording. A real, live person.

I curse my aunt silently in my head, now seeing the smile form at her lips. It was planned; someone tipped her off on my love for Iron Man, that's for sure. And with Sting as her neighbor...everything was starting to make a little more sense.

"Every breath you take, every move you make... Every bond you break, every step you take, I'll be watching you."

The words are so familiar that they blur together as he steps toward center stage, conveniently where my body has yet to defrost and move from. I'm frozen there, staring at his chocolate brown eyes behind those thick framed glasses he always wear. He doesn't have the Tony Stark look, no, but the fluffy, long locks from Sherlock; a second favorite, if I had to compare his films... But, shit, no, snap out of it and move!

"So, uh, you know where to fill in, right?" he asks away from the mic, his eyes burning into me as my face heats up.

All I can do is nod as he rushes into the next verse. I guess I am singing this. With him. Together.

"Every single day, everyone word you say... Every game you play, every nigh you stay, I'll be watching you."

To be honest, I almost forget to open my mouth, but I manage. My insides are twisting into knots as I force myself to peel my eyes off of his dorky little smirk, to face the tables of guests instead. If I told you I never dreamed of this after first coming across this song, I'd be lying. Terribly. But this could launch my career...it could open so many doors. So, I push that giddy fangirl moment aside and try to be professional about it, though Devin's still slacked jaw from the back of the courtyard is making that hard to do.

"You're up, sweetheart," he whispers right before I cut in, making my voice falter a little; he notices, judging by the widening of his smirk.

I straighten my shoulders and attempt to ignore his comment the best I can as I go forward, despite my hands shaking.

"Oh can't you see," I belt out, "you belong to me. My poor heart aches, with every step you take...."

Ha, but funny thing? I forgot they harmonize for the next part. I can do it, I have several times before, but the thought throws those butterflies back into my stomach for a moment.

"Every move you make, every vow you break, every smile you fake, every claim you stake, I'll be watching you..."

Somewhere in there, our eyes meet again and apparently we're singing more to each other than to the audience, but that's actually quite normal when doing a duet. I mean, you don't have to believe that if you don't want to, but I swear, it's a thing. Doesn't matter anyhow, because now I'm facing forward again as the intense part comes...and the spotlight is only on me. 

Who am I kidding? No one cares that I'm up here right now. Well, that would be the case for a normal wedding party, but this is Malibu, and I don't think it's quite the same as what my brain is imaging.

"Since you've gone I've been lost without a trace. I dream at night, I can only see your face. I look around and it's you I can't replace. I feel so cold and I long for your embrace. I keep crying baby, baby, please..."

I close my eyes as I hold the note, tilting my head back as I dig into the music. Preforming is about stage presence too, and forgetting who I'm standing with for a moment lets me really deliver it. I hold the note for the full sixteen beats, until I let it trail off and the acoustic middle begins to play.

"Impressive," I finally hear from my side, and force my eyes open while still counting beats in my head in fours.

"It's not my first time," I respond coolly, though I don't know why; defense mechanism, I guess, but we'll get into why a little later...

Something in his eyes sparkles for a moment before he shakes his fluffy head of hair out and gestures for me to take the reigns again. I do as told, but not because he told me...ugh, whatever. I pull my mic from the stand and hold it, like he is with his own.

But then I'm hit with yet another surprise, as to my left, I hear the familiar strum of guitar strings, and when I look, it's none other than the mastermind himself. Of course, I knew Sting lived a few houses down, but seeing him walking up to us, I realize I'm surrounded by legends; a musical legend on my left, and an acting legend on my right. I swallow nervously, trying to keep my posture, as I shoot him a nervous smile while he sings the "do do do" pattern for the break.

"Oh can't you see, you belong to me," I repeat. "My poor heart aches, with every step you take..."

Then the situation escalates.

"Every move you make, every vow you break..." I sing afterwards, assuming he's going to sing the lower octave, and he does.

However, from my right, his breath is hitting my own against the mic after I drop it back in the stand; oh, so he wants to share now? It's minty and fresh, with a hint of stale cigarette mixing somewhere in there, and it definitely takes me by surprise. I bury my blush as I focus on the task at hand; finishing the song while matching his pitch.

"Every smile you fake, every claim you stake, I'll be watching you."

The music dies down a little, giving our voices the dominance for a small moment. I catch Robert's eye as I turn my head in his direction, mirroring his words with mine.

"Every move you make, every step you take, I'll be watching you."

I see amusement dance in Downey's eyes for another second longer before he lifts his voice up in the ending sequence, which reminds me I have a completely different pattern than his for this last part. Is he doubting I can keep with it? Or maybe something else. Either way, I can tell he's thinking about something, and apparently that something spawned from watching me.

I have to stop myself though, because if I let my mind wander, I'll surely convince myself of something stupid. This is just a funny little gift from my aunt, no more. She asked, probably paid...and he agreed. A business transaction. A...gift for Sarah, too, I'm sure.

As he sings his same line of "I'll be watching you", lifting it and holding it at the end, I grasp onto my pattern and go.

"Every breath you take, every move you make, every bond you break, every step you take. Every single day, every word you say, every game you play, every night you stay."

We go through it not once, but three times, before we harmonize the final note, holding out the very last part of "I'll be watching you" in a chord of three.

And then the weirder thing? This time we're actually hit with applause. I mean, I got a little bit of one before, but nothing like this. And even though the courtyard is full of famous and rich people, I guess they still respect a good performance. It's enlightening, to be honest, because I was starting to doubt myself earlier.

"How about a photo, yeah?" I hear from my left as the very British Sting swings his guitar around his back and places his hand on my shoulder, guiding us toward the professional photographer standing on the grass in front of center stage.

I don't have the nerve to answer as I'm suddenly pressed between the two, with Robert's hand now in the small of my back. The warmth flows through my top and across my skin, making my blush deepen, but I'm hopeful that doesn't show in the photo the lady is taking. I smile, trying to ignore how small I am between the two, and after a few flashes, we're done and I'm shaking Sting's hand and thanking him.

"I've always loved your writing style," I compliment and he smiles, nodding. "It's really such an honor to be up here singing one of your own."

"When Erin stopped over and mentioned it, I knew I couldn't pass this up," he laughs as I finally let his hand go. "Always happy to meet any family of hers."

"I really appreciate it," I agree, glancing over his shoulder as none other than my aunt herself steps up onto the stage to greet her friend and neighbor.

I let the two talk, dismissing myself. Trying to find the stairs, I immediately flush when I forget I'm still standing next to my other vocal partner and nearly collide with him as I spin around.

"What, no thank you for me?" he asks with a grin as he clasps his hands behind his back and rolls back on his heels.

I swallow uncomfortably and force my own back at him. "Sorry, I guess I kinda figured you'd be gone by now."

"Gone?" he repeats, blinking.

I nod slowly, my brow pressing together. "You did your part. Time to go, right?"

He opens his mouth to speak but we're interrupted when Devin comes hopping up to the stage and jumps in place, the awe clear on her face.

"Rach, I got it all on video!" she squeaks, making my cheeks turn red with embarrassment as she turns her attention to Robert. "My Downey, oh my God...I'm-we're-such huge fans, and-"

Yes, that would send my career flying...hopefully. But to fan girl like that in front of these two legends...not okay. So far, I've protected the fact that I am actually internally freaking out next to the two, but it won't last for long if she keeps it up. So, I fake a smile and hop off the stage, managing to land in my heels, and drag her away toward the dessert table to the far side of the yard.

"Not cool, Dev!" I hiss once I release her. "He doesn't need to know that!"

"Why?" she asks, looking genuinely confused.

I sigh. "He doesn't care. He's a big name. He's Iron Man for God's sake. I'm no one. He's just doing it as a favor, I'm sure. Or they probably paid him well..."

She crosses her arms as I pick at a cookie and place it on a small plate to carry back to our table. "Is that why he can't keep his eyes off of you?"

"Okay, I love you...but you're insane."

"Whatever," she teases. "You can retract that statement after you watch the video later. Which, by the way, already has over a thousand hits on YouTube."

"Oh my God, you didn't!" I gasp.

She takes the opportunity to grab the plate from my hand, stealing the cookie I chose before skipping back to the table to play with her phone. She'd be a damn good manager...if I had a career. I should keep that in mind. Groaning, I slap another pastry onto a new plate and heave out a breath.

"You know, I just didn't think it'd be smart to end on such a depressing song," I hear a voice behind me and I tense up immediately. "Love Bites. Kinda the opposite of what you'd want at a wedding, isn't it?"

I crack my jaw and study the cookie on my plate, not looking up. "Don't ask me. It was the bride's idea."

"Right," he agrees. "Makes sense...sort of. I'd probably go more...Duran Duran. Or-"

"Sting?" I ask, smirking to myself.

"Maybe."

When I finally do turn to him, plate in hand, his eyes are narrowed and his hands are shoved in his pockets, admiring the smirks still plastered on my face. It's obvious I know too much about him just by that taste in music, but I wonder if that's what he's caught on to, or if he's just trying to break down the source of my rudeness. I guess I'm just defensive, even if he's a huge celebrity...but if you knew my history, you'd get it. 

"I'm sorry, am I bothering you?" he asks, and for a moment I can't tell where the line between Tony and Robert is drawn.

I raise an eyebrow instead, taking a bite of the cookie in hand. 

"Cause, you know," he continues, now waving a hand about in a gesture between us, "this whole 'keeper of silence' thing is a little unnerving."

"Am I making you nervous?" I ask suddenly, not sure what came over me.

I study his reaction; the fine curve of his lips arches up in a faint smile, amused by my snap. The thick frames of his glasses glare in the fading sunlight, adding a little cover to his face, but I can still read him better than he thinks I can. It's something I picked up...part of always being on my toes. I've been screwed over by more than one guy, and I'd be a fool to let even the slightest thin happen again. So, I pay close attention as his chocolate eyes flicker between mine.

"More like...confused," he admits, stealing his own cookie from the table. "I was told you're a fan."

I blink and shove down the blush creeping into my cheeks as I set down the now empty plate on the table, to the side of the sweet treats. I watch him steadily as he take a small bite of what's in his hand, finishing it off quickly with a second.

"Of course you were..." I finally mumble, sucking in a new bit of air.

His grin widens as he crosses his arms across his chest, the dress shirt he's wearing pulling across his defined arms.

"So...which is it?" he asks, obviously proud of himself. "Tony? Harry? Or...perhaps it's someone a little less obvious, madam?" He finishes in an English accent, mocking that of Sherlock Holmes.

I smile. "I guess you'll never know."

And in return, his smirk fades from his face as he cocks his head to the side, peering at me from behind his glasses. "You know, I've been tossing around the idea of another album."

Inside I laugh at his change of subject, trying to break through somehow. I don't let him, but I will politely toy with the conversation on a professional level. Anything to keep my mind off of everything else.

"Why not?" I counter. "You have a great voice."

"As do you," he compliments, and I shake my head in denial.

"Not compared to the thousands of people trying to have the same career," I argue.

"I guess," he agrees, taking a pause to think. "But how many of those thousands have sung with Sting and Robert Downey Jr and have video proof of said event?"

Lord, is he cocky. I swallow uncomfortably, thinking of Devin rushing the stage as she waved her phone around. He's right. As much as I want to disagree with his ego, she already said the few minutes it had been online had given it enough light to go viral. Who knows what it would be up to now.

Before long, though, he's pulling his phone from his pocket and checking the caller ID, frowning at the lit up screen.

"Gotta take this. But hey, uh, enjoy the rest of the party."

He smiles and then he vanishes, leaving me calling a "it was nice meeting you..." quietly after him.

Robert tosses a smirk over his shoulder, acknowledging it, and then disappears outside of the courtyard's gates up front, patting Sting on the back and nodding at my aunt as he excuses himself. My gaze stops on the closing door behind him, trying to comprehend everything that had just happened, from the point of retaking the stage until now. Things were definitely about to change.


	2. Chapter 2

I've never been a morning person, but the beach seems to change things. Maybe it's the time zone difference, too, who knows, but this morning, I was up bright and early, just after sunrise began, and I quickly made my way to my family's ocean front balcony to enjoy the peace and quiet before Devin wakes up. She's a late sleeper, but today I know she's excited to head to Anaheim, so I expect her up within the hour; I promised her a trip to Disneyland since we've both never been to the park out here.

Anyway, I've never really 'done' yoga, but I'm decent with meditating, so that's what I've been up to. Sitting on a mat, studying the sun rise over the water. It's funny, really, the way it travels. Malibu is southern facing, which most people forget. So, the sun comes up to our left and sets on our right. You basically get the best of both coasts.

I haven't bothered touching my phone yet today; it's been on the charger, as it always is at night. To be honest, I'm a little scared over the video Devin posted yesterday, and can't get the conversation with Downey out of my head. It wasn't really anything that outstanding, but come on...I've idolized that man for far too long to not fan girl over something like that. Devin insists there's something I'm not seeing, but I refuse to watch myself on film, so I wouldn't know. Recordings are okay, but cameras? Not my thing, either. I guess the only benefit will be that photo the photographer took...something to remember that performance by.

My brief thoughts are discouraged by the sound of footsteps nearby and a sliding door closing a little louder than necessary. I let my eyes travel while trying to keep my head forward. It's not from this house, but the one to my right...the one that houses Sting, himself. It's a nice building, a similar glass wall blocking the sand below. I haven't gotten a chance to inspect it yet, but the trip so far has been pretty rushed.

"You sure you only have this creative spirit when normal people aren't awake?"

His voice is low but I pick it up; a talent, I suppose, from watching too many of his movies.

"This is a normal hour," I hear the British voice argue as he joins him.

"Not for Americans," Robert grumbles back as he moves toward the edge of the deck.

He leans over Sting's balcony, his forearms resting on the top of the glass walls to support himself. He observes the water for a moment, then his eyes land on me, and I snap mine back in an instant and pretend like I never noticed. Though, when I stand up to pack my things and head inside to make some breakfast, they lock again for just another moment and his lips tug in one of his infamous smirks.

He looks tired. Exhausted, really, but that must be what the spotlight does to you. His hair is ruffled and slightly curled, and the five o'clock shadow he's developed overnight has yet to be shaved. I assumed he spent the night there, judging by the same dress shirt he's wearing from last night. I never did see him return to the party, but Devin and I wound up leaving not too long after he disappeared on his phone. We shared a few friendly dances, then decided to grab a bottle and take it to the beach for some peace and quiet after the long day in the sun.

When I enter the kitchen, Devin's and my aunt Erin are already waiting; my uncle must have taken off for work just before, judging by the empty coffee cup left on the counter. Their staff grabbed it as I wandered in...honestly, I would've cleaned it, but I'm definitely not accustomed to having a cleaning crew show up at home every day, either.

"Early morning soul searching again?" Devin asks, swallowing a bite of toast.

I roll my eyes as I place the mat back in the corner where I found it. Then, I pour my own cup of coffee and sit at a stool next to the counter to enjoy their company before we head out for our day of adventure.

"You missed the dolphins," I answer.

"You know, it's unfortunate you just missed whale season," my aunt says, her eyes level with her phone as she answers emails or adds events into her calendar, or...something. "They migrate past year twice a year when the weather changes."

"That would have been something to see," I agree. "Too bad we're only in for a couple of weeks."

"Still a nice vacation, though!" Devin adds rather quickly. "And if I haven't said it enough the past two days, thank you so much for having us!"

"Not a problem, girls," Erin replies with a smile, grabbing her stack of folders on the table. "I have to run these to the office, but we'll see you tonight for dinner?"

I nod. "I think we're checking out Disney today, but we'll be back by eight."

"Then I look forward to seeing you then!"

Erin kisses me on the forehead before leaving to meet their driver out front of the house, leaving us alone with the cleaning staff in the kitchen. I sigh into the smell of the coffee beans hitting my nose, the steam warming me up from the slight chill to the morning air. The much needed jolt is almost there already, just after a few sips of the dark liquid.

"Did you watch it?" Devin suddenly asks, cutting into my content relaxation.

I peek her way and fake a guilty smile. "Honestly? Haven't touched my phone since last night," I admit.

"Rach, you met Iron Man last night!" she groans. "Sherlock. Tony. The person you've wanted to meet for the last like...seven years!"

"Eight" I correct with a sly grin and set down the cup.

She rolls her eyes. "And yet you're denying you haven't been thinking about it..."

"I haven't." It's a lie.

"Well, your video's already been covered on TMZ...just so you know. I wouldn't be surprised if you make it to E! or...whatever else these paparazzi people have going on out here."

I shake my head at her as she loads YouTube on her phone again. "I can't believe you posted that..."

"I can't believe I didn't get a photo with them..." She frowns and changes the subject just slightly. "I bet your Twitter's blowing up!"

"I wouldn't know," I answer, but I'm certain she's right; I'll look at it tonight...maybe. "Come on, finish your toast already, woman!"

She raises an eyebrow at my sudden urgency, but obliges; she's just as excited to get to Disney as I am.

Before I know it, I'm grabbing my drawstring bag and some sunglasses from my room, stuffing my credit card and ID into it, and toss on an old pair of tennis shoes to get going. Devin called an Uber for us, although it will be expensive. My aunt has us covered, but I still hate costing them either way.

The trip is about an hour to Anaheim, and Devin spends every second of it rambling to the driver about our night before as I stare out the window and watch the hills pass. The guy's a younger dude, he's got a spiked cut and he's playing something with low bass, so I doubt he has any idea who Sting even is, but he nods along. When she mentions Robert Downey Jr, his interest peaks, and I have to mumble an agreement when he asks if I really sang with him. That's it, though, and the rest of the ride I tune them out. Devin doesn't notice; she's too hyped up about the story and about arriving at the park.

Once we're dropped off, we get through security and take the tram to the ticket gates. Thankfully, we have VIP passes, granted to us by my wonderful family, and we go straight into the first park, hoping to manage both in one day. 

"So...Star Wars first?" Devin asks, reading my mind.

"Of course!"

I've been a huge Star Wars nerd my entire life, that's nothing new. Ewoks, snow planets, lightsabers...the whole ordeal. Most people know that, but I still don't flaunt it. Kinda like the Marvel thing...that's almost equal, to be fair, and I've learned to keep to myself about it more than often. But when they added the parks for both...I almost lost my cool, and she knew that.

Before lunch we hit the Star Wars section, as well as the Indiana Jones ride and Space Mountain. Then we're off to the second park, home to the Marvel fun that we'll both enjoy. We're hungry, though, so I let Devin pick the place for lunch. It's a hot dog restaurant, so we sit outside and enjoy the time off our feet as we pick at some shared fries.

"Any photos uploaded yet?" she asks, wiping her hand on a napkin and tossing it in her empty basket.

I pull out my phone, which I wiped of all notifications and turned off data for in the car, and set it up to connect to WiFi so I can access their app. We had met with Darth Vader and Chewie earlier in the day, and I had bought the photo pass to make sure we got all of our pictures.

Once the WiFi hits, the notifications start again. A couple shares on my Facebook, two emails, and a few texts from friends back home. Nothing that needed attending to right now. I knew what they all said - You met Robert?! Are you for real?! How are you even alive right now?! All along the same lines, really...I had cleared enough of them from my mother - the world's biggest fan of Sting - on the way here.

"Yeah, a few of them," I finally answer once the app loads. 

"Let me see!"

I pass the phone to her to inspect as I take a sip of the soft drink I got from the fountain. Next, we're due to ride the Tower of Terror, then meet the Captain America actor for photos before we head out. It's already nearly four in the afternoon, and we'll have to be out by six if we want to get back to Malibu and freshen up before meeting the rest for dinner.

"This one's good..." she murmurs, invested in the app as she swipes among them. "Rach! What am I doing in this one! Oh, God. That's terrible. No, delete that."

"We'll download them all and go over them at home," I promise. "Then you can delete whichever you'd like."

If I left it to her, she'd delete most of them...I'll save them for myself as backup.

"Um...Rach," she hesitates, looking up.

"Yeah?"

Her finger is still hovering over my phone as she decides whether or not to just hand it to me or open a notification. She drops down the menu and selects whatever just came across, then passes it back to me.

Twitter is opening. I don't use it much, but do have an account for my music. It has a thousand followers or so, but not many. The big blue bird appears on the screen and finally, it loads a tweet with a familiar face on the account's icon and my jaw drops.

@RobertDowneyJr: What an honor sharing the stage with this talent last night. @Rachel_Thomas @OfficialSting

And included beneath, none other than the photo the video Devin had posted the night before.

"Oh my God," I manage. "Did he just..."

"You're going to be famous!" she states a little too loud, making a few others glance in our direction.

I push my sunglasses further up my nose and click the phone off, not responding to the tweet right away.

"How did he find me?!" I wonder aloud. "I mean, I told him my name, but..."

She shrugs, standing to toss her food...or get out the pent up excitement, I'm not sure which. "Your aunt is friends with Sting, right? She probably gave him your name."

"Or I'm being stalked," I joke.

"Being stalked by Robert Downey Jr? Yeah, that's not a bad thing!"

I press my lips together and shove the phone back into the drawstring bag and stand to join her.

"You're not going to respond to that?" Devin asks, shocked as I shake my head.

"Not right now. Let's just enjoy the day."

She narrows her eyes at me, then finally agrees. "Fine. But we're talking about this later!"

I agree, only because I know it will be hard not to. She'll be on me, my mother will be on me...everyone I know, and everyone I don't know will be on me. Silently I curse Robert for posting that...yeah, this is what would launch me, maybe, but...am I really ready for this level of acknowledgment?

The rest of the day goes smoothly. I think Devin knows I don't want to talk about it. I'm psyched...I really am. But I have no idea how I'm supposed to act. I mean, one of my favorite people in the world just acknowledged my existence. And at no benefit to his own career. I was honestly under the impression that my aunt had paid him, or maybe Sting had offered it to him in exchange for something, I don't know. But now I'm not so sure.

After the Tower of Terror, I think we both knew the food right before was a bad decision, but it fades while in line to meet Captain America. Most of the line is made up of kids, but that's okay. Today we're acting like kids. It's Disney.

Devin goes first, and I watch as she shakes his hand. Man, this guy's got Cap down good. He's polite, he's got the body and the smile...he sure doesn't disappoint. And then, without warning, I'm suddenly wondering what meeting the real Cap would be like. Robert knows him. Robert's just finished up working with him, I think. Isn't there a movie coming out next year? I forget. But, anyway, I'm sure he knows him. Maybe I'd get to know him if-

"Hi, ma'am. I'm Steve Rogers," finally brings me back to the real world.

I'm met with a red glove outstretched, and I shake it politely, smiling as I force the redness from my face. It doesn't work, though, as he quickly realizes I'm wearing a Stark Industries shirt, and he's taken aback playfully. What can I say? I love Captain America, I do...but Tony Stark will always have my heart. We banter back and forth, but eventually take some fun photos with his shield and then I thank him and Devin and I are off, exhausted beyond belief.

By the time the Uber drops us off, I've dug through my bag and taken out my contacts and replaced them with my glasses, which I haven't worn in a long time. My eyes are tired, as well as my body, and I can't wait for a shower and some food. Hopefully, we were staying in for dinner instead of going to Nobu or somewhere else where I'd have to be on point with my appearance. It's nice, going to all of these fancy places, but after today, I think we both just want to fall into bed after a glass of wine on the deck.

I punch in the code to the gate, then make my way to the front door.

"We're back!" I call once we enter the home. "Sorry we're a little late. Got caught up with Captain America and-"

And of course, as I'm running my mouth and kicking off my shoes, I don't look up. But when I do, he's leaning against the wall ahead of us, glass of something clear in his hand, and he's got that smug look on his face again.

"Cap, huh?" he answers my previous comment, acting hurt. "And to think, after all I've done for you."

I drop my bag and narrow my eyes, watching as Devin shoots me a wide grin and wild eyes before skipping up the stairs to her room to clean up. So many questions are running through my head, but I can't process any of them.

"If you're referring to that tweet, I never asked you to do that," I respond carefully, trying not ton bite too hard.

He doesn't skip a beat. "Oh, so you did see it?"

"Were you waiting for us?" I finally spit out, confused as to where the rest of my family is.

"Was just observing this Jensen mural," he answers, pointing at the wall he's leaning on. Then, he changes back to me. "Nice shirt."

I feel my face heating up as I remember the silver toned shirt I wore today plainly had his character's name plastered across the front. I was trying to fit in at Disney, not...be harassed by Tony Stark himself. Thankfully, that's when aunt Erin walks in with my uncle Jon close behind, and they both give me a hug.

"You're back!" Erin exclaims. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Sorry I missed you this morning," Jon adds, kissing me on the cheek.

They are really both overly polite. My own family doesn't even do things like this. But I enjoy it, and I can't help but soften up a bit at their greetings.

"I didn't know we'd be having company," I comment, glancing at Downey, who hasn't moved from his excuse of a mural. "I still need to shower and-"

"No rush, dear," my aunt assures me. "It was a last minute invite. "Gordon here-"

Right, of course she's using Sting's real name.

"-stopped by earlier with his gift for Sarah and I just thought, why not invite him tonight?"

Jon smiles politely. "And Mr Downey here happens to be staying with him, so we have twice the nice company!"

Nice, yeah. More like nerve wracking. For many, many reasons.

"You're staying next door?" I ask, swallowing uncomfortably.

A smile replaces his smirk. "Just a few days. Remember that album I mentioned? Thought we'd do some work on that until my house finalizes. I've got some time before the press tour starts."

Press tour. So I was right about that Marvel film coming out. Or maybe the new Sherlock? I can't keep his films straight anymore...he's in the prime of his career, as he should be.

"Oh, are you moving close by?" Erin asks, retreating with him back into the kitchen.

He follows, giving me a wink, and I hear him answer with, "to the Lagoon. Not far, actually."

Jon probably senses my discomfort, because he's got his hand on my shoulder before I can stop him and he squeezes gently. I smile up at him, masking my embarrassment.

"I just got back as well, or I would have warned you," he jokes; someone must have filled him in on my fascination with Iron Man, or I must be redder than a tomato and he picked up on it. "Dinner's in an hour. You and Devin go freshen up...we'll be on the deck when you're ready."

I nod and quickly escape to the stairs, seeking out the comfort of my room. The door closes swiftly behind me, and I let out a long sigh, cursing myself for being so hostile. What is my issue? I mean, I know what it is, but no one else does... Devin does, yeah, but... I shouldn't have treated him like that, even if it was bizarre as hell that he'd be joining us tonight. Really, it's an amazing experience to be able to chat with someone I've looked up to.

I force myself to breathe for a few moments, kicking the memories of a similar situation out of my head instead. Him. A different 'him'. Back home. Three years before. He always waited. Didn't matter where I was, but he'd be there, upset about me being late, or angry that I didn't tell him exactly where I was.

This isn't him, I remind myself finally. No, this is someone you actually like. Someone who's been through shit like you have. Someone you should be thrilled to spend time with, even when just professional.

I shake my head clear and run a shower after another moment, and by the time I step out, the steam feels great on my tired muscles and it radiates into the room as well. I wrap the towel around me as I step out in search of something decent to wear that doesn't have a reference to one of his movies, and nearly jump out of my skin when I see Devin lying on my bed.

"Sorry," she giggles as I pick up a new shirt and some shorts and carry them into the bathroom with me, leaving the door open so she can hear me. "I was bored and didn't feel like going down there without ya."

"Thanks," I call back, climbing into the new clothing. "But you know they don't bite."

"Your family, no," she agrees. "But the singer and your boyfriend? Who knows."

I toss my wet towel at her when I reemerge from the bathroom, running a hand through my hair. "That escalated quickly. I've barely talked to the guy."

"Yeah, and I still don't get why! Last I checked you loved him."

I laugh with uncertainty, reminding myself of just that. "I do. It's just...weird, you know? I've met people before. But that's usually like hey, how are you, photo, bye, and done. Not like..."

"Actual conversation?"

"Yup," I admit. "And he's so..."

"Gorgeous?" she jokes. "He's just a person, too, ya know!"

I sigh. "He's also not someone who should be wasting their time on me."

Devin groans and finally pulls herself off the bed. "If you don't talk to him, I will," she tells me sincerely. "And if that happens, I will not hold back from telling him all about your little Iron Man collection or those few months that Tony was your phone's wallpaper, or-"

I hush her quickly as she raised her voice on purpose. "Okay, okay! Just...I'll try not to be weird."

She grins. "Good. I expect him in your bed by tonight."

"Devin!" I hiss, gasping at her blunt comment. "That is not what I want!"

"Mhmm," she hums, not believing me at all.

My face is heating up again. "And even if it was, he's like...I don't know, he's got to be at least ten years older than me...if not more."

"You don't know his age? I'm shocked."

"I do..." I admit with shame. "I just don't feel like doing math right now."

And that's all I give her as I turn the doorknob handle and return to the dinner party outside. She follows suit, grabbing us each a glass of wine in the kitchen before stepping out onto the deck. The sun is already setting, and the table it set under the motion sensor lights. The crashing of the ocean is loud against the glass; it must be high tide. 

"There you girls are!" Erin greets, serving herself some salad the staff must have put together before the main course. "Grab a seat and dig in."

"Thanks," Devin answers, hungrily eyeing up the chicken that has now made its way out to us as she takes a seat.

She kindly leaves the seat across from Robert open for me, shooting a sly grin my way that isn't missed by him, either. I suck in a breath and ignore the two; for adults, there is way too much drama going on between us. 

Thankfully, dinner goes by smoothly, until Sting brings up the video Devin took of the performance. So he's seen it too, I guess. That's the internet for you. 

Devin jumps on the opportunity to boast about it, jabbing me in the side as I'm taking a sip of my wine, almost making me spit it out as Robert smirks in amusement from across the table.

"Since Mr Downey tweeted it today," she begins, but he interrupts her, correcting her.

"Robert's fine.

She smiles happily as he speaks to her and I roll my eyes. Eventually, she continues.

"It passed over 500,000 views a while ago," she concludes. "Probably more by now."

"And she deserves it," Sting comments, folding his hands over the table as she shoots an approving look my way.

I smile graciously but don't comment. Instead, my focus flies to my phone which abruptly distracts me, and when I glance at the name that lights up the screen, my heart sinks.

Charlie: Saw the video. Big name now, huh? Hope you haven't forgotten about me...maybe we could talk. You back in town yet?

Chills run down my spine and the air suddenly gets too cold for comfort, so I excuse myself from the table and take the phone inside with me. I stare at the screen as I toss it down on the counter, leaning over the sink for good measure. I feel sick, and not in a good way.

Leave it to Charlie to ruin something good. Just like he did everything else in our relationship, he would take this from me, too. Don't answer him, I fight myself. I've been clean from him for three years. Three years and not a word. And now, suddenly, he's going to fight his way back into my life, and trust me, he'll find a way. I see spots and try to regulate my breathing again, steadying myself against the counter.

"Hey," a voice says softly, making me jump when contact is made on my back by a warm palm. "You good?"

He sounds nervous. Worried, almost. Why?

"Yeah," I lie before lifting my head to force a smile at Robert, who apparently felt he needed to follow me in.

He narrows his eyes but nods, going to the fridge to refill his glass with water. "Boyfriend?"

How'd he guess? "Ex."

"Ah."

I turn away from the counter, now focused on him instead, which honestly is probably a good thing. "Water?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Been clean and sober for a while now. Or don't you know that?" he teases.

My lips twitch in the slightest of smiles and he must sense that I don't find it funny, because he places his hand on my shoulder and tilts his head to catch my gaze, which I guess landed on the floor at some point. What's with everyone and my shoulder tonight?

"You know, I happen to be a good listener," he offers, but I shake my head.

"Thank you, but...not tonight," I reply politely and push myself to stand tall instead of using the counter for support. "Too long a story."

He nods. "We all have one of those. The offer stands whenever you'd like."

I can't help but to laugh a small laugh and he looks confused, as he rightfully should be. I finally contain myself and justify my reaction.

"Sorry, it's just... This is extremely weird for me."

"What is?"

"You. Talking to me like you care," I shoot back, crossing my arms. 

He sets down his glass, frowning, and for the first time, not making a joke out of anything. "Who says I don't?"

"Just because we sang one song together at what was basically a charity event for you doesn't mean-"

"We're friends?" he asks. "Well, how about this. What about business partners?"

I blink, not sure if I heard him correctly. "What?"

"Yeah. Why don't you, uh... Well, why don't you join us? On a track? I mean, the fans love you already. Have you read the comments?"

"No," I admit. "I've kinda been avoiding that all day."

He smirks. "So I've seen," he teases, as though mentioning my lack of reply to his tweet. "Well, just think about it, okay?"

I nod absent mindedly. The, he's motioning to my phone on the counter in question and I nod approvingly, allowing him to unlock it and pull up whatever he wants. To my surprise, he's brought up the phone book, and he's typed in a number.

"My personal, so you don't get caught up in the media bullshit," he says.

Then, he opens the place for a photo and opens the camera instead, gesturing for me to join him.

"Come on, selfie for the hell of it?"

"You know the word selfie?" I ask, both brows raised in amusement.

He lets his mouth drop open in fake shock and turns his head my way, making my chuckle again. "Just how old do you think I am?"

"Fine!" I laugh, this time genuine.

He snaps the photo after leaning in with me to fit the frame, then saves it as his contact photo.

"Better get back out there before they start to worry," he tells me as he hands the phone back. "Told 'em I needed a refill...and I'd check on you."

I force my blush down and smile, staring at my feet again as I spin the phone on the counter with my hand. "Thanks..."

"And if you're still debating it...don't answer him," he adds before stepping away back toward the doors to the deck. "If this is what he does to you without even being here...not worth it."

I lift my head at this remark, but he's already sliding the door closed behind him as he disappears into the dim lighting outside.


	3. Chapter 3

_"I'm going home," I decide, beginning to descend the stairs down to the sidewalk, bordering my car._

_"Seriously?" he mocks, folding his arms across his wide chest._

_I whip my head back but stand a distance away for my own safety.  This isn't the first time we've had this kind of icy silence.  The last few didn't end well.  I learned early, go home before it gets worse.  Why I can't bring the strength to leave him, I don't know._

_"I'm tired," I decide, trying to make my voice as light as possible while I feign a smile._

_"You're a liar," he hisses, pushing himself from the wall he's leaning on and hopping toward me.  "Don't go."_

_I swallow nervously.  "Just let me go home."_

_I turn to unlock the car, but his strong hand grips my arm and holds on tight...too tight for comfort._

_"I said I'm sorry!"   His voice is raising and he tugs me toward him.  "Dont go."_

_It's a demand and I flinch at the words, trying to pull my arm back out of his hand.  It's clasped over my wrist, tightening with every passing second._

_"I'll come over after work tomorrow," I promise, even though it's not what I want; I just want to get out of here._

_He stares for a moment, then releases me and runs his hand through his spiked blond hair.  "Fine.  Fine, but by seven, no later.  Don't leave me waiting."_

_"I won't..." I whisper._

Suddenly, my eyes shoot open.  I'm breathing.  Hard.  Sweat feels sticky across my chest and my forehead.  I can't steady my breathing, but I try as I look wildly around the dark room.  It was a dream.  That's it.  Nothing more.  Just a distant memory.

I release the death grip I have on my comforter and roll over toward the side table, grabbing absentmindedly for my phone to check the time.  Who doesn't have a clock in their room?  Whatever, it's 2011, I guess.  Five in the morning.  Great.  Not quite sunrise, but either way, I'm not feeling the morning meditation today...not after that rude awakening.  It must have been triggered from last night.

Nothing special happened after returning to dinner.  In fact, our dinner guests dispersed early after my aunt and uncle informed them they had to retire early due to a busy day following; they both had to be in the office first thing in the morning...probably about now, actually.  Something about a charity gala was mentioned for the night, but I guess it was part of the discussion I missed...all I know is that it would be a bunch of rich, high class people donating money I didn't yet have to an expensive cause.  After the two men left, Devin and I were asked to attend with them, though I still haven't given an answer.

Regardless, as I slowly recover from my nightmare, I scroll through my phone and dismiss all notifications, including erasing that particular text I got from him the night before.  Then, I open my contacts, searching for my mothers name.  She probably was only just waking up for her day on the east coast, but I don't want to go back to bed and need something to keep me distracted...and I know she's been bugging me through text about everything Devin's posted in the past few days, too.  My finger lingers over the newly added contact above her on the frequent's list and I suppress a smile.  The dorky photo of my confused face next to Robert's that he took when he added his name is almost embarrassing.  Sighing, I click on my mom and hit call.

After a few rings, she picks up.

"Oh my God, you're alive," she states.

Yeah, she's more straight to the point than I am, but not in a rude way.  More like a...doesn't really care what other people think kind of way, which is exactly where I get it from.  We're more friends than parent/child, I swear.

"Somehow," I croak, my voice obviously giving away that I just woke up.  "Couldn't sleep so I thought I'd call."

"Too excited over you know who?" she teases.

"So you've seen the video," I conclude and she laughs.  

"Hard to miss.  Devin's been going crazy on Facebook."

"Yeah, I heard..." I groan, pulling the covers over my head.  "I haven't even watched it yet.  My phone's been blowing up though, it's crazy."

"No, what's crazy is that you were with the Sting and you didn't even call me so I could say hi!" she argues.

I roll my eyes.  "Hey, you know they know him, and I told you to come!"

"And I told you I can't get off work," she answers swiftly; it's an argument we regularly have when discussing taking trips together...which is why they rarely ever happen.  "So what happened after that?"

"Nothing," I say truthfully.  "Devin and I went to Disney yesterday.  Not as nice as the Orlando one, not gonna lie.  She wanted to do sight seeing but I'm too tired so probably a beach day today, or-"

"Shit!" she curses, and I hear something fall in the background.

"What?"

"Nothing.  Your moron of a dog just knocked into her water bowl.  She won't settle the fuck down."

I smirk to myself, knowing that beneath the words, she cares for her as much as I do.  I left the dog and cat with them for the couple of weeks.  They love the cat, but she's right...the dog is a major pain in the ass most of the time.

"When are you coming back again?" she asks.

"Uh.  A week and a half ish.  Thursday, I think.  Whatever date that is."

"I'll be surprised if you even make it back here.  Thought you'd be shacking up with Iron Man by now."

"Wow," I mutter, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.  "Why does everyone have to say that?!"

"Because you've been in love with him for years."

"No," I correct.  "I've been a fan of his for years. There's a difference."

"And now you have an in!"

"No!"  I argue further.  "I sang one song with the both of them.  At a private wedding."

"That he then tweeted out to millions of people."

I sigh again, not knowing if she's actually been on her Twitter, or if she just read it through the news.  The latter seems more predictable, seeing as she hasn't touched her Twitter account in years.

"Just a one time thing that Erin set up, mom," I lie, remembering the offer to work with him that he tossed out there the night before.  "And I have absolutely no intentions on anything else at all.  Probably won't even see him again."

"You're full of shit," she laughs and I don't even humor her.  "By the way, Charlie was talking about visiting since you'll be gone so long."

Instantly, my heart starts pounding again.  Fuck.  No.  I swallow and try to focus so I don't tip her off.

"Here?" I squeak out uncomfortably.

"Yup.  Told him to ask you.  Didn't you guys break up?"

"Sort of," I confirm. 

No, I never told her the whole story.  Sure, she witnessed some of his outbursts, but not the bad ones.  Just normal fights to her.  I haven't even confided in Devin too much...but she knows the majority.  She knows the big picture; the details don't really matter here.  Despite that, I manage to force myself to continue.

"We're going to be pretty busy," I lie; we have nothing planned besides tonight.

I can almost hear her shrug.

"Not my boyfriend, not my problem.  But if you don't want him there, you better tell him.  You know how he is with surprises," she adds, reminding me of the time he showed up at home a week earlier than planned without a heads up.

Gee, thanks mom.  I reemerge from the blankets and see the sun starting to rise, so I quickly change the subject.

"I'm gonna go shower I guess.  Figure out what the hell we're doing today."

"Kay.  Talk to you later," she agrees, and then I say goodbye and end the call.

Yeah, my mother's...like that.  It's hard to explain.  We're so vastly different from the family I'm staying with, so it's odd to be in a whole new kind of aura.  Both are nice, but this isn't quite home.  I'll start to miss Pennsylvania eventually.

Anyway, we do just that; about ten, Devin wakes up, and maybe an hour later, we've stepped off the deck and down the wooden stairs to meet the tide, tossing towels down on the sand. Before I climbed out of bed, though, I did make a stop on Twitter, finally responding to that tweet from Downey and giving it a retweet as well.

replying to @RobertDowneyJr and @OfficialSting : This still feels unreal.  Thank you both for the incredible opportunity!

I send it and then the day officially begins.

Having a private beach is nice; no commotion, only the occasional resident walking by, maybe with a dog or two.  The tide's dropped, so we have plenty of room to lay out without getting wet, which is exactly what I want to do.  Not think...  Start a tan, even though I'll probably just burn.  Devin tosses on her playlist and lets it play softly from her phone between us as we relax.

I don't remember dozing off, but when I raise my head a short time later from the paperback book my nose is jammed in below, I realize I'm already starting to burn a little, so I sit up and tug on a light jacket to shield my shoulders.  Not sure if Devin's awake or not behind her black sunglasses, and I don't ask.  Instead, I sigh, lean back on my elbows, and take in the sound of the waves crashing on the beach.  It's rare that I get a chance to have zero worries like this, so I try to take it in.  Unfortunately, my mind doesn't want to let me; it flickers back to the dream I had overnight and the text message from the day before.  My mother's words haunt me for a moment and I debate waking her up to tell her what I'm anxious of, but there's no point in that right this second...even if he did catch a flight over, it wouldn't arrive any time soon.  It's nearly a six hour ride over, not to mention security and baggage claim...

I distract myself by snapping a photo of the waves ebbing and flowing and go to Twitter, posting it with a few relevant hashtags.  Hell, I'll toss it on Instagram too.  Why not?  I load the app, which I also haven't been on in a while, and check in to Malibu.  I add a little brightness and a filter, then let it out into the world.  I check the notifications briefly when the little heart icon loads and realize how long it really has been since I've been off the web.

Suddenly, I jolt up when a drop of water lands on it from overhead.  The skies are clear, it isn't rain.  Naturally, I panic and hold my phone up as a defense mechanism...like it could do anything.  I guess I'm not good with surprises ever since the whole Charlie thing escalated so far...

"Shit, relax!" I hear, and it allows me to.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" I gasp, releasing my tense stance and laying the phone in my lap.

"Sorry, next time I'll ask before gracing your beach with my presence," he snaps.

I narrow my eyes behind my sunglasses, my heart still beating a mile a minute, and tilt my head up to Robert.  Yup, once again, Downey has managed to run into me.  Coincidence?  Yeah, now it's getting a little suspicious, but whatever...he said he was staying next door.

"Instagram, huh?" he mocks, taking note of the app still open on my phone.

I nod and quickly go to close it.  "Are you stalking me or something?"

He smirks and runs a hand through his hair, which might I add, is a wet and tangled mess, but it's attractive as hell.  How I didn't realize it before, I don't know, but he's in just swim trunks, which are also sprinkling water onto my legs, making me pull out of the way instead of letting my eyes linger over his toned torso.  God, how I'd love to look at him, but I still haven't admitted to how much I've idolized his films in the past few years, so I have to keep a straight face if I want to keep that under wraps.

"Paddle boarding," he answers, holding up the board under his arm that I missed.  "Ever been?"

"Nope."

"It's more fun than sitting on your phone," he tells me with sass in his voice.

I can feel his eyes burning into me behind his Ray-Bans, and suddenly I'm feeling very self conscious of the little clothing I'm wearing under my jacket.  I shrug it on and hold it closed over my front, causing his smirk to turn into a grin.

"You don't have to hide, sweetheart," he teases.

Yeah, he's one to talk.  His arms are the size of my body, alone.  Okay, maybe a little bit of an exaggeration, but still...  I'm definitely not a runner...and I've never had a gym membership.  Am I overweight?  No.  But not as defined as he is.  Guess it comes with having to be Tony Stark for the past three years.  I feel the blush creeping in at this thought.

"Can't you go harass your boyfriend?" I shoot, starting to get fed up with his cocky attitude; he's a little more intense than I anticipated, and I'm ready to send it all right back, career help or not.

He bites his lip, grinning ear to ear now.  "You know, I'm starting to miss the quiet, shy little thing I met at the wedding."

"Yeah, well, once you get to know me..." I mutter, smacking Devin awake for some backup.

She groans, but pulls down her glasses and glares at me with sleepy focus.  "What the hell, Rach?"

"She thinks I'm stalking her," Robert informs her.

And like I did, Devin sits up immediately and her jaw drops.  I can almost sense the drool forming in her mouth as she looks him up and down, not helping his ego at all.  To be honest, he's starting to lose his appeal to me...maybe I can let her have him if she wants him.  As if he's mine to give...

"I think you probably have better things to do than ask me about my Instagram account," I argue.

Devin's face lights up.  "Instagram?  I have that.  I think I follow you, too!"

She knows, now thinks, but I don't bother chirping up.  Instead, I wait for him to glance between us, back at the water, and then toward Sting's house.

"Maybe you can show me later," he offers, full attention now on her which makes my jaw tense, and he knows it.  "Up for a party tonight?"

Devin quickly snaps her head toward me, fighting to find appropriate words.  She's fighting internally, trying to figure out what I want, so I sigh and lay back down, signaling the conversation has ended and he is free to go.

"We're busy," I answer for my friend.

"Too bad," he says simply, then turns to walk back up to the house.  "Another time, maybe."

I don't answer, but Devin yells something in agreement as he walks back.  Now I'm even more fumed...first my mom, then Charlie, now his cockiness...  It doesn't help that I'm stubborn as hell, either.

"You and Downey..." she stammers, though I don't look up to answer.  "I wasn't...I mean, don't you want to..."

"Nope," I decide.

I don't.  Yeah, I did, but that was when I thought he'd be fun and cute and...not the exact same as Tony Stark would be.

Thankfully, Devin doesn't push it.  I can't find it in me to bring up Charlie yet, either, so after a few more minutes, I decide it's time to pack up and ask her to help me pick out a dress to go to this charity event tonight.  Maybe it'll help me get my mind off everything a little more than sitting plainly at the ocean would.

I'd love to bore you with details on what the dress shopping experience was like, but I hate shopping, and I hate talking about it.  I picked the first thing Devin handed to me; something short, just above the knee, not too tight, and the color of a light, red wine.  It goes well with my hair right now, she says, but I don't really care either way.  I usually don't even wear dresses...unless it's special occasion, which tonight will be.  After a few dozen, she settles on a little black dress, flaunting her best curves...the typical Devin move.

When my aunt and uncle return home, we're ready to go, so we wait in the car for them.  Their driver is set to drop us off and pick us up after, so alcohol won't be a problem, thank God.  I still don't know what this even is even for, but they did say it's to raise money for kids, or something, which I know they'd easily support.  They once built a park in New Jersey for some kids when I was younger, which I cut the opening ceremony ribbon to.

The venue is a fancy hotel in downtown LA, just a few minutes from the Staples Center, I think.  My uncle took me to a game there, once, but I never got to see the rest of the city.  I wander in with the rest of the group, following an excited Devin with her phone out, documenting the entire experience as we arrive.  The event hall it's held in is in the back corner, so we trek across the shiny, marble floors.  My black heels click on the white stone, and I make sure not to slip by stepping too quickly.  Hopefully inside will have carpet or something...

But it doesn't.  To be fair, the room is dressed up to the nines.  Colorful balloons line the walls in some spots, and elegant flower centerpieces are on each table.  The far wall as an open bar, thank the heavens, and the opposite is home to a big stage with a nice, white backdrop and two large speakers to either side which are currently playing soft music.  There's no set seats, so we are free to take any place to sit we want, but Devin and I join them at theirs.  They're sure to be mingling, so it won't matter, but it'll give me some sort of comfort knowing where to meet up once it's time to leave.

"Drinks?" Devin peeps in from my side, finally setting down her phone and sensing my awkward aura.

I nod, my eyes still scanning the room as we set out clutches down at the table next to my aunt and uncle, who are already schmoozing with the couple to their side.

"What do you want?" I ask.  "I'll get it."

"You sure?" she asks, sitting down in her seat anyway.

I nod and give her the best smile I can as I tug down the hem of my dress.  "Yeah, you do your thing," I joke, motioning toward her phone which she's still clutching, even if it isn't in her face; she's the networking girl.

"Sorry," she answers, a puppy dog look creeping across her face, even though there's no reason for her to feel guilty.

I hand her my phone, instead, having an idea.  Robert may have put a light on my singing career, so why not put those accounts to good use? 

"Only if you wanna be my assistant for the night," I kid.

She looks up with stars and excitement in her eyes.  "You mean I can post for you?!"

"Only on the professional accounts!"

She nods without missing a beat.  "I have been waiting for this day for so long..."

I laugh hesitantly.  She's sweet, but I'm still a nobody, so it really won't matter.

"Wine?" I question, and she agrees.

The bar is empty, so it doesn't take long to get our drinks.  I order two Moscatos, because yes, I can only handle the sweet stuff, and lean against the top while I wait, trying to tell myself to calm down.  It doesn't happen.

No, instead the lights dim briefly, and a petite woman is leading someone onto the stage, I guess for an opening speech.  I freeze as she hands him the microphone; the one and only, you know who.

"Just a quick...something or other to say hello," Robert speaks when the attention is finally on him, and damn, can he control the stage.  "I just want to thank you for all of the...generous," he settles on as his unique voice lingers, "donations.  It really is much appreciated, and on behalf of Random Act Funding and myself...thank you.  Now, uh, go get drunk, and...donate a little more money..."

The guests laugh at his comment, but I can tell he actually means it to be serious.  I shift onto my other hip against the bar, and that's when I catch his attention.  His dark eyes linger on me for a moment, so I turn away and grab the two glasses the bartender has dropped off and tune him out.

"Make kids happy," he finishes quickly, and I hear him shoving the mic at the person who escorted him up.

Shit.  I take a deep breath and move toward the tip jar to drop the money in I brought up, then try to escape, but he's quick and it's a small room.

"Too good for a party, I thought?" I hear and I close my eyes and force myself to turn around with my own drink in hand and Devin's still on the bar.

"Oh God..." I mutter in embarrassment as I close my eyes for an escape.  "I'm so sorry, I didn't know, or-"

He chuckles lightly, bringing my back to the situation as I open them again.

"If I told you, would you have been more eager to come?" he asks, narrowing his eyes from behind those dark frames.

I study the mischievous smirk on his face, defined by his strong jaw, and sigh.  "Maybe," I admit.  "I'm just not one for these..."

I search for a word as I look around the venue, hand clutching my drink, but can't think of one fitting enough without tearing down his event.

"Oh, trust me," he jumps in, "this is all thanks to Erin and Jon.  My kind of party...isn't as tame."

I raise an eyebrow, wondering for a moment if he's really over all of his issues, but he looks healthy, so there's no reason to doubt him.  For a moment, I take in his appearance in more detail...surprisingly, I haven't so far.  His stubble around his jaw is salt and peppered, matching his dark hair that's gelled up in just the right way to frame his face.  I'll admit, my favorite look of his has to be his Tony cut and facial hair, but hey, when the role calls...  He's got a nice tux on, bow tie, jacket, and all, jet black that matches his locks.  I've always loved him in a suit.

"I'm sorry, do you uh, want a camera to take a picture, or...?" he cuts in, sarcasm heavy on his voice...but it's light.

By now, my face has to be as red as my dress, but I'm done running and hiding.  This is the third time we've been put together, and damnit, this man has been my inspiration for far too long to not take the chance to talk.  For years, I've thought up so many random questions that I'd want to ask him one day if I had the chance, and yet I haven't even started to yet.  So, I start with one matching his current appearance; a Sherlock question.

"Is it hard to do that English accent?" I blurt out, then start rambling.  "Like, did it take time to pick up or..."

He tilts his head, obviously confused as hell, but then pulls his hands from his pockets and extends one.  Apparently easily slipping into character, he speaks in her Sherlock tone, voice low and raspy.

"How about a dance, madam?" he offers, watching as I open my own mouth and try to find words to answer.

I glance wildly around the room, taking mental note of all of the photo opportunities that could start rumors, and attempt to protest.  "Oh, I don't know, that's probably not a good idea..."

And in an instant, it's like he's changed completely over to Tony, because I'm being drug like Pepper toward the middle of the room where the others are dancing, trying desperately to find somewhere to set my glass down on the way.  Eventually, I succeed, and then I'm met with another predicament...what the hell do I do with my hands?

Thankfully, he grabs one and places it on his shoulder, taking the other in his own before dropping his free hand to my waist.  Yup, this really is like Tony and Pepper.  I try to remind myself to breathe, focus...anything, really, but instead, I'm too worried about what accusations will come from this.  From the corner of my eye, I see my aunt studying me briefly before going back to speak with her company, and I know wherever Devin is seated waiting for me to return with drinks, she's probably wildly snapping her own photos or video.

"Relax," he tells me, picking up on my tension.

I force an uncomfortable smile.  "I'm trying."

"It's just a dance."

"God, are you always this in character?" I accuse, earning a genuine grin and laugh from Downey.  "Seriously, I can't tell if you're Robert or Tony right now!"

"Not doing it on purpose!" he swears.  "Look, this is a charity thing.  I'm the host...  This is normal."

"You usually dance with your guests?" 

"No," he admits, that familiar smirk returning.  "But they know you by now.  Or they should.  Speaking of," he hurries in to his next point.  "We were talking, and-"

"We?" I question, finally allowing my eyes to meet his.

His lips tug up when they do.  "Sting, as you call him, and I," he defines.  "We're thinking of rerecording Every Breath You Take.  He and I and...you."

I almost forget to keep moving when he suggests it.  It's so simple, so...perfect.  I've loved that song forever.  And being on a track with both of them and not just him would be Earth shattering for me.  He must sense that or see my eyes light up or something, because his grin grows and his eyes soften as he watches me.

"That would be amazing," I all but whisper, breath hitching in my lungs unintentionally.

And now, I realize how silly my feud has been with him.  Yes, sometimes he annoys the hell out of me, but this is Robert Downey Jr.  This is the person I've been dreaming of meeting for ages.  And now we're locked in this personal conversation...

His eyes inspect my own as we slowly step to the song playing.  This close, I can see every line on his face, every little hair out of place, the definition of his jaw by his facial hair.  His hand feels soft, but his shoulder is strong under his jacket, and I'm trying my hardest to keep a safe distance from him.  I can almost smell him.

"You're staring again," he says gently, and I look down with more embarrassment than earlier.

"Sorry..." I apologize, feeling like an idiot for being caught.  "It's not every day you get to dance with Iron Man," I laugh, and so does he.  "And...I guess I'm nervous," I admit.  "You were right, I am a fan, and this is...so weird..."

He chuckles lightly and glances around the room quickly before letting his eyes fall on me again.

"I don't usually do this kind of thing," he states truthfully.  "But for Gordon...he seems to be pretty good friends with your aunt."

"Apparently," I agree.  "But to be more honest, I haven't gotten to spend much time with them in my life.  Malibu's pretty new to me.  Well, the whole west coast, really."

"You're not from here?" Robert asks, suddenly looking a little put down.

I shake my head.  "Pennsylvania.  Land of nothing but hockey and football and lots of snow.  Just on vacation here for a couple weeks."

"And no agents or talent scouts there," he comments.

So, I misread him.  For a second, I thought we may be having a moment.  He's been nice.  Kind.  Talkative.  But this seems to be headed straight back to business.  I sigh, knowing that's all it's ever been and I just let me wild imagination go.

"Singing has kind of been a side thing, I guess.  Did the wedding as a favor."

"So they used us both for our talents," he jokes.  "How dare they!"

I can't help but laugh, thankful he's brought the mood back up.  "Maybe you, but I've got no secret skills."

"What?" he gasps dramatically, making my smile stick.  "I'm sorry, are we talking about the same person here?"

I roll my eyes instead.  "You're a millionaire by now, I'm sure, and for good reason...I'm no one."

He narrows his eyes behind his glasses and hums for a moment before tilting his head.  I can feel his thumb lightly move against my hand in his, slowly massaging my own as he focuses.  It's probably nothing...right?

"It took a lot to get here," he answers sincerely.  "In case you forgot...well, I'm sure you've seen the tabloids."

I press my lips together.  It's more than enough to let him know I'm well aware of the trouble he had been in in his younger years, so he continues.

"This is sort of my own vacation while I move into this new house.  Well, and the idea of a new album and all...  Trust me, work always has me busy on a normal week."

"Good timing, I guess," I muse.

"Hey, I may have come as a favor to them," he frowns, going back to the fact that he wouldn't have agreed to such a performance regularly, "but even if you're a fan...you're not really acting like one."

"Sorry?" I question and push back a little bit, taken aback.  "I'll try to fangirl a little harder..."

Downey only grips onto me tighter, inaudibly telling me to relax.  "It's nice.  A breath of fresh air."

"Well, I'm not going to stroke your ego, even if you look good in a suit," I snap back, feeling my temper rise again.

Push it down, push it down...

He only laughs.  "You are a feisty one, aren't you?  Your temper matches your dress."

My eyes must be flaring about now, because his face softens again and he's shaking his head in amusement before digging himself out of the hole.

"Which looks stunning on you, might I add."

Carefully, I let my shoulders loosen up and exhale slowly as a smirk of my own is slapped onto my face.  "You don't look half bad yourself."

He opens his mouth to retort something sly back, but unfortunately never gets to.  I feel a hand tapping me on the shoulder, and then he releases me as I turn to greet Devin.  She isn't as thrilled as I thought she'd be, though.  Instead, her face is white as a ghost and I'm starting to panic, myself.

"You okay?" I ask, placing my hands on her shoulders to steady her.

She lifts my phone up in her hand and lets me take it after I hesitate.  I look down at the open message.

"Don't freak out, okay?" she says, but my stomach is already tensing up.

Charlie: I know you hate surprises, so...I'm flying in.  Plane is boarding now.  See you tomorrow morning?

My heart feels like it stops and I stare at the phone longer than I should without speaking.  The familiar warmth of Robert's hand on my lower back through the thin fabric of my dress brings me back to life for a moment, but I'm starting to feel flush.  This can't happen.  I can't have him come here.  I ended it.  I thought...I mean, I thought we agreed...

"I had no idea he was still bothering you," Devin says, knowing my panic attack is already setting in.  "It'll be okay.  Okay?  I'll tell him to go.  You won't even have to leave the room."

I can't form words, so I try to focus on my breathing, but it isn't doing much.  I can't cause a scene here or my aunt and uncle would never forgive me.

"Rachel?" Downey's deep voice speaks from behind me, making me jump.

"Air," I state, "I need air.  Just for a minute."

Devin nods, but Robert's the one to speak.

"I'll take her," he offers, and for once, I don't argue.

Devin looks at me and finally I nod, letting her know it's okay.  She swallows and agrees, looking around for my aunt and uncle.

"I'll just tell them your mom called," she decides.

Then, my feet are propelled forward as Robert leads me away and toward a back entrance, probably out of sight of the general public, and Devin's on her way to my family to let them know I had to step.  Okay...I can do this.  Just breathe, focus...  I can center this panic attack if I just have a minute of silence, and then I can figure out how to avoid Charlie if he really does show up.  And, hopefully, Downey won't ask any questions in the meantime.


	4. Chapter 4

Right now, there's nothing I want to do more than curse LA.  It's hot...at least for me.  Not humid, thank God.  But not helpful, either.  I need cold air...a breeze, something.  But all there is is the musty smell of the city streets surrounding me as I press my back against the cement wall of the hotel and shut my eyes.  I take a breath, then two, and count them after that to focus on something else.

At the same time, I can't really hate LA.  The past few days have been more than eventful, and here I am, in a back alley with none other than Mr Tony Stark himself.  Yeah, that isn't helping, either.

When I finally blink my eyes back open and my breathing steadies, I notice the look of concern plastered across his face, his arms crossed over his chest as he stands mere feet in front of me.

"Panic attack?" he asks.

I'm sorry, isn't that obvious?

"No shit, Sherlock," I snap, then immediately grin and start to laugh, probably more than I should since all he does it raise an eyebrow and watch.  "Sorry, sorry...  I honestly forgot who I was talking to..."

"You do know I'm not actually Sherlock Holmes, right?" he asks with hesitation.

I roll my eyes in response.  "Are you sure?  I mean-"

"We're totally different!" he protests.

I hold my grin at his childish banter and press further.  "Maybe him, but Tony?"

He pauses and his eyes burn into me with amusement as he silently admits defeat.  I gotta hand it to him, he knows how to distract well, and it's obvious that's what he's trying to do.

"Tony's more...of a playboy.  Something I'm not."

I feel the heat rise to my cheeks when he says this and try to think about anything besides that comment...or Charlie's news.  At least he's good at the distraction.

"Thank you," I finally say, much more quietly.  "You have one before?"

"Panic attacks?" he questions.  "Used to.  Not much anymore.  But I've gotta act them for my next role, so I'm refreshed in my expertise, I guess."

I smirk, realizing he's set to film Iron Man 3 soon.  "Right, what would you possibly have to panic about?  The entire world loves you."

"And yet I have no one."  He lets his arms lose and points at me, as though scolding.  "That doesn't mean Tony and I are the same!"

I look down and shuffle my feet, smiling as I shake my head.  I honestly have no idea what to say...half of that statement is depressing as hell, but the other is just trying to lift my spirits, and I'm glad he came out instead of Devin.  He's pretty easy to chat with, too, despite the whole famous actor superhero thing.  I mean, sure, earlier today he was driving me mad, but I guess he knows when it's time to be serious, which is something more guys lack these days.  As for Dev...she can be a little pressuring to get the full story before she gives advice, and right now, that's not what I need.  Later, she and I will probably wind up making a game plan on what to do about Charlie, but for now, I need to center myself and remind myself that I am in charge of this situation...he is the unwanted guest, he is the one who is going to leave.

But then he touches on it.

"So, what?   Problem with that guy again?" he asks, narrowing his eyes as he tries to decipher my reaction.

I turn my attention down the alley and away from him, looking at the lit up street to my side.  I focus on the shadows on the ground, purposely not meeting his eyes.  He takes it as a sign.

"Whatever you wanna tell me," he says, "I'm not gonna repeat it.  Unless you want me to.  Or, we don't have to talk at all."

My face turns red again at this, my mind instantly taking that comment to a place it shouldn't.  Somewhere he was definitely not headed.  But, his voice is delicate enough to be believable and for whatever reason, I feel like letting someone else in the loop would be okay.  But....Robert?

"You want to hear my problems?" I ask blatantly.  "You?"

He blinks.  "Me?  Yeah?"

"You have more important things to do than listen to a girl bitch and moan about her life," I protest.

A grin appears on his face again and he crosses that uncomfortable line.  "Bitch?  No.  Now, if moaning's in the picture..."

My face straightens as I clear my throat, but still look away.  He instantly wipes the smirk off his face and sighs.

"Kidding.  Come on.  What's up?"

"You have a party to attend to," I remind him as a last resort to avoid the conversation.

He narrows his eyes again and I can tell he isn't going to let up, even from my side glance.

"Fine..." I mumble.  "His name is Charlie.  He's...we dated for a while.  Off and on."

"How long?" Downey asks, genuine interest showing on his rested face as he listens.

I shrug.  "A couple years."

"And I take it he still thinks you're..."

"Together?" I grunt.  "Yeah.  Can't shake him.  He's...clingy like that, I guess."

He nods.  "So you want to be done, but he..."

I close my eyes, sighing.  "Charlie's got some anger issues," I admit slowly.  "He...well, he tends to get loud and take it out on others...a lot."  I swallow, trying not to think about specifics.  "He stopped going to his therapist and doesn't like taking his meds for his bipolar depression, so he kinda turned into a loose cannon.  I tried to leave several times, but..."

I shake my head, running a hand through my hair as I start to shiver in the memories.

"I guess it's my fault, you know?  He needs help and I just keep leaving.  He just needs a little push and he'll be back to the guy he was before," I lie, knowing full well that isn't what I believe...but it will allow me to end this conversation.

I push myself off the wall, my brain zooming in thought as I try to ignore the things creeping back into my mind, and step back toward the door.

"Look, I appreciate this, but I'm fine.  It was just a little anxiety."

I move to step past Robert, but he holds his arm out, hesitant to touch me, but close enough to block me from going inside.

"Did he touch you?" he asks softly, but to the point.

I suck in a breath and hold it, unable to meet his eyes still, which tips me off.  He frowns and let his arm drop, not sure if he should comfort me or let me leave.

"Please...can we just go back inside?" I ask.

He pauses, then, "why are you letting him come here?"

"I'm not," I snap.  "But it's what he wants and he always get what he wants!  I have no choice in the matter anyway...he's already on his plane."

He sighs and gives in, placing his hand on my bare upper arm, which sends shivers down my body at the touch.  I jump slightly, but then look at his hand in place, knowing he isn't going to hurt me.  Something about him is so natural...so comfortable.  Yet still so unbelievably awkward.

"I want you to call me," he insists, leaning his head down until he's in my line of sight, forcing me to meet his eyes. "If anything...happens.  You still have my number in your phone, right?"

I nod, blushing ferociously at his hand still resting on me until he lets go and allows me to pass.  Then we're back inside, and I seek out Devin, insisting that I'll be fine until we get home and then we can talk about it.  Downey escapes to talk to some donors, but not without his gaze lingering on my turned back more than several times throughout the rest of the night.

Devin and I down a decent amount of wine between the two of us, reading comments on the video of our song and setting up new accounts for everything social media.  We try to keep quiet, but the alcohol is definitely taking its toll on us, so I stop after four or five, making sure I can at least function without getting my family in trouble.  Devin, on the other hand, takes one more and steals my phone, applying for verified accounts on this, that, and the other thing.  I let her, knowing she'll probably be in charge of said accounts at some point, anyway...if my career ever goes anywhere, that is.

For a moment, my mind wanders back to Downey and his proposal from the other night.  I still hadn't told anyone or decided on my own yet.  I could say yes.  Could release a song.  It could bomb.  It could go viral.  It could get some hype and totally die out in about a week when something better came along.  I force myself to think of the positives...of the dream I've had since I was a kid.  What better chance would I get?  And if I fail...at least I tried.  Maybe I could at least find out if singing is really for me...

"Rachel?" I hear as a hand reaches my shoulder, making me jump for a second time that night.

I breathe and relax when I turn to see my aunt and uncle with their bags and jackets.  "Sorry...thinking. about stuff."

My aunt smiles down at me.  "Everything okay, sweetie?"

I nod.  "Just tired."

She accepts the answer, thankfully, then informs me of their change in plans.  "Jon and I need to be in the office again tomorrow morning, so we figured we'd just walk over to the penthouse.  George can take you back to the house, though.  We'll call for him, it's no problem."

I open my mouth to answer, but then see Robert's familiar figure step up as he approaches to say goodbye and thank them again for helping to organize things.

"I can take them, it's no problem," he insists, shaking my uncles hand and then pulling my aunt in for a light hug.

"Are you sure?" Jon asks, grabbing his phone in case he has to dial the driver.  "George is right around the corner and-"

"Not a problem, like I said," he interrupts with a hand up.  "I gotta go back to Gordon's tonight, anyway.  Last night before moving day."

Erin smiles and turns to Jon, a silent agreement settling between them as he pockets his phone in his jacket and forces a smile.

"If you insist."

"I do," Downey confirms, a familiar playful hint lighting his eyes that I can't quite place.  "Plus, it's the least I can do to say thank you for this spectacular event."

I'm not sure if it's the wine or the boring conversation that ensues over money and politics, but I begin to tune them out as they go into their goodbye.  I tap Devin on the shoulder, trying to steady her as she stands.  Thankfully, I'm sober enough to walk a straight line, but she isn't, so I hold her upright and wait for Robert's signal to leave.  When he's done talking with my family, I hug them goodnight and promise to stop by for lunch the next day.  Then, we're walking toward the door, the feeling of eyes on me as I follow the star outside.

The valet has his car ready to go, just like in the damn movies, and he opens the back door and watches with amusement as I buckle Devin in.  She sits, still playing on my phone, trying to void the dizziness, I guess.  Then, he opens my own door for me to board the passenger side and I force a tired smile, thanking him.

"She's not gonna puke, is she?" he asks.

I can't tell if he's teasing or not, but eventually I shake my head and he closes my door before jogging around and hopping into the sports car.  The engine revs and once again...I swear he is more Tony than he realizes.

The ride home is silent for a while while I awkwardly look at the passing city lights.  Once we hit the 101, I sit back in my seat, enjoying the calmness in the night air from the window I have cracked.

"So no driver?" I ask casually after a few more moments of silence.

I glance at him, meeting his side eye as he cocks that same smirk I love to hate.  "Sometimes I like to drive myself.  It's relaxing."

I stare out the window again, feeling my heart beat pick up when I remind myself of who we're in the car with.  Yet, why does it feel so normal already?

"You think too much," he observes.

I huff out a laugh and turn back his way.  "As opposed to too little?"

He grins, eyes focused on the road.  "You get that intense look when you're thinking."

"How would you know?" I retort, stunned that he's picked up on my traits already.

"I'm observant," he answers simply, his lips curving up at the edge.

I watch as he continues to drive, admiring how he looks in a suit and how defined his jawline looks with the slight stubble unshaven for the first time since I've seen him.  He's probably going back to Tony soon, so it makes sense.  I'll take it as eye candy, if nothing else.

I don't reply again until we're passing the Santa Monica pier and Devin pipes up from the backseat.  She's been so quiet I almost forgot she was there.

"GordonsGirlx9x says you two look cute together," she hiccups, apparently still reading comments on YouTube.   "I can't say I blame them.  You already bicker like a couple."

I sink down into the seat in embarrassment and hold my arms over my chest as we near the gated community, silently kicking myself for letting her have access to those things when she's been drinking.  I guess Robert's finding it funny though, God know why, because he's chuckling quietly from the driver's seat, grinning and showing off his pearly whites.

The car passes through the gate, then pulls to a stop in front of Sting's garage.  Devin lets herself out, but not before leaning through the center console of the car and reminding me to be careful.

"Be safe," she grins.  "Thanks for the ride."

She gets out and I roll my eyes, unbuckling my seat belt, noting she still has my phone.  Then, she's punching in the gate key to the house and makes her way inside the courtyard and to the main space to head inside.

"You gonna be okay?" I hear, right before a hand is placed on my shoulder and squeezes.

I nearly jump out of my seat and whip my head from the window towards Robert, running a hand through my hair to try to salvage any sort of decency I had left.

"Yeah," I lie as my thoughts and the memories keep spinning through my mind.  "Devin's here.  She knows everything..."  I pause, then, "sorry you had to deal with me tonight."

"Don't apologize," he orders, frowning.  "Everyone's got shit, ya know?"

I fake a smile and nod, meeting his dark eyes as they scan my face.  "Why are you like this?" I ask suddenly before I can stop myself.

Yeah, that sounded rude.  But, he doesn't leave or kick me out of the car just yet.  He tilts his head, trying to understand.

"What?  Nice?  Funny?  A good friend?  Magnificently handsome and-" he rants, but stops with a grin when I interject.

"Stop!" I laugh, shrugging him off and smacking his shoulder lightly.  Then, my chuckles fade and I turn serious again.  "I mean...why do you care?  We just met.  Like, you were literally hired to meet me."

"Well, technically I didn't get paid, so-"

I sit back in my seat, my arms folded.  "You know what I mean!"

"Well, contrary to your beliefs...I am headed right next door, so this isn't really an issue.  Besides that, you haven't yet harassed me for a photo or an autograph or twenty questions about my love life and the drugs addictions, so I don't mind helping you out.  And," he continues, "if we're working together..if you decide you want to, anyway...we'll probably be hanging out a lot more.  So, why not hit this whole 'friends' thing early?"

I drop my arms and look back at him, blinking.  Um...did Robert Downey Jr really just suggest we're friends?  Or...that he wanted to be?

I open my mouth and realize I just...can't.   It wouldn't work.  Not with all the drama that follows me around.

"I-"

He turns in his seat to face me.  "Rachel, you're talented.  You can do this if you work hard."

I sigh and open the door to let myself out.  "I can't."

"Can't?" he repeats. "What do you mean 'can't'?  I'm literally holding a window open for you here."

"I appreciate it," I promise him.  "I do.  But my life is on the east coast, and I have to take care of some things there, first."  My pets, my family, my friends...Charlie.

He stares at me for a moment longer and nods, stiffening up.  "Okay.  Yeah.  Sure."

I feel bad...I do, but I never anticipated being thrown into this lifestyle so fast.  It's all so new to me and so familiar to him, so I'm sure it doesn't even phase him how stressful it could really be.  Plus, with so much on my plate that I'm keeping locked inside...

"Like I said," he continues when he realizes I haven't actually left yet, and neither has he.  "You have my number."

I smile slightly and nod, getting out and closing the door behind me.  He mirrors my actions, then takes me be surprise when he meets me in the middle between the two houses.  

"Uh, you live over there," I say, pointing to Sting's boxy home.

"I know," he answers easily.

I blink, trying to understand, but then he's grabbed my arm just as he did at the party and he's pulling me into a warm embrace...a hug of sorts, but not too tight.  I try to focus, but the overwhelming scent of him is flooding my senses and it's my new favorite scent.  The jacket's soft, just as it felt during our dance, but this time...I'm much closer.

After a second, he breathes deeply and releases me, his eyes burning fire into mine.

"I probably won't see you again, so...  Listen, whatever you think you deserve..." he says lowly, sadness welling in the dark chocolate orbs.  "You don't.  I know it's not my place, but whatever he's doing to you...  You're worth more than that, Rach.  Everyone's worth more than that."  He sighs.  "Just...think about it.  You're smart.  I know you can find someone better."

I analyze his face and can't help but think it over myself.  I know he's right...but I panic too much when Charlie comes sprinting back into my life.  I don't want it, but I can't stop it from happening.  I'm weak.  I'm a pushover.  And that is exactly why I'm not yet made for show business.  I'm not made for the drama, or the fans, or the constant public eye.  Not people ogling me every time I walk into a room or nearly fainting when they meet me for the first time.  Not like him...this incredibly talented human standing in my presence.

"Goodnight, Mr Downey," I answer eventually, signaling the end of the conversation, as much as it warms my heart to hear from someone who isn't Devin.

He fakes a smile and hangs his head before turning toward Sting's door and punching in his own gate code.  Then, I turn and take a deep breath, knowing I'm starting to see him as more of a normal person than the celebrity I've idolized forever, and it's gonna sting not to have that form of comfort around anymore.  I guess I got used to him in the past couple of days.

When I wander into the house, Devin's already knocked out on the couch, so I grab my phone from the table and unlock it, heading to Twitter to read some of the ridiculous comments she stated were coming in.  Hopefully it'll settle my mind a little bit before bed so I can actually get enough sleep to deal with Charlie in the morning.

this is PERFECT, they read...with a lack of grammar.

omg when can I download this?!

And yet, some aren't so nice.

Another great classic ruined by people who shouldn't be singing...

I sigh and reset my notifications, not wanting to read anymore.  Then, at the top, my heart does flips as I see the most recent notification.  Someone had the same idea as me, I guess.

Robert Downey Jr has followed you back, it says.

I can't help but grin, despite the conversation I just left.  He's making an attempt...an attempt to keep lines open, even if I'm going home soon and he's leaving tomorrow.  It's absolutely crazy, really, noting he only follows maybe fifty other people. 

I sigh, clutching my phone as I lay back in bed, and it's only mere seconds before I'm drifting off, realizing how tired I actually am.  How is this possibly my life?  Good or bad...to much is happening for my to wrap my head around.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Fun fact...Charlie is a real person I knew. The events depicted in this chapter are events I experienced. I just needed a draw for the character's backgrounds...so I went with something I knew well. The rest is all fictional.

I wake to light yelling from somewhere inside the house. I grab for my phone, dismissing the notifications and checking the time. Fuck, I forgot to charge it, so it's going right on the charger. Then, I fish for a hair tie and toss my hair up, then grab my glasses from the nightstand. No time for contact right now.

I reluctantly push myself out of the warm bed and wander down the stairs, remembering my aunt and uncle were staying downtown the night before. I probably should've changed out of my slightly revealing pajamas, but it's a moot point. Devin's voice is audible, and a male's...and it isn't Robert. Nope, it's the last thing I want to hear, and I grab the wall, stabilizing myself as I take deep breaths. I can do this. I can...I think. Robert told me to call him...Devin's downstairs...my aunt and uncle will be home soon. It'll be okay, I just gotta play it cool and keep him happy and we'll be fine. Right? Right.

"Jesus Christ, Charlie!" I hear Devin yell when I approach the kitchen. "How many times does she have to tell you she doesn't want to do this anymore? Did you even ask before you came out, or-"

And there it is again. His voice. The one from the nightmares. From the panic attacks.

"I don't need to ask to surprise my girlfriend," he shouts back, and something breaks; glass, I assume, maybe a drinking cup.

"She's not your girlfriend anymore!"

I dreadfully enter the kitchen and confirm my suspicion, my heart sinking at two things I now have to handle today. They both turn to look at me, Charlie straightening up, but his face still tight and serious. Devin's got her arms crossed, shaking her head slightly as a warning. I'm used to it.

"Someone's gonna have to clean that up," I mumble, opening the fridge for a bottle of water.

I turn to them, eyes on the ground, and lean back against the counter. There's footsteps, then a fist pounds on the counter top, making me jump and whip my eyes upwards.

"Where the fuck is he?" Charlie asks, face in mine with anger red on his face.

"Where is who?"

"First you ignore my messages, then I see you hanging around with..with," he goes on, shouting as I try to keep my voice steady and my heart rate slow.

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Devin shouts, coming around to shove him back, which only makes him angrier.

The good thing...though Charlie has a temper with my friends, the only one he'll lay a hand on is me, so I know he won't retaliate against her.

"Don't bullshit me," he growls, standing back. "I know he's on your list, I know you're fucking him."

I nearly spit out the mouthful of water I took and cough, clearing my throat with wide eyes. "OH my God, do you mean Robert?!"

"Oh, you're in first name basis already?!" he snaps back. "So it is more than a fling!"

I roll my eyes, standing straight. "You need to calm the fuck down."

"Me?!"

"Yeah. I sang with him, that's it."

"You're lying," he answers, folding his arms over his chest. "I saw the photos. You two dancing. Laughing. What, he probably brought you back here, didn't he?"

I raise an eyebrow. "He drove us home, yeah. He's staying next door."

"Perfect!" Charlie shouts, throwing his hands in the air. Then, he points to himself. "Even when you knew I was coming?!"

"Okay, first," I start, now letting my own temper flare. "You didn't tell me you were coming until last night."

"Oh, so you did get my messages. My bad, I thought you were ignoring them...oh wait!"

"Second-" I interrupt, "Devin and I went straight to bed. Robert's staying with Sting. Actually, he's moving today, so he probably isn't even on this block anymore. Happy?"

I can see the wheels starting to click in his head and I internally thank God that I was successful in avoiding this argument. Now to figure out where to go from here...

"He offered me some vocals on his next album," I tell them both, realizing I never mentioned this to Devin, either.

"He what?!" she gasps, completely forgetting Charlie's advances for a moment.

I nod. "I'm not gonna do it."

"Why the fuck not?!" she asks, now upset with me, mainly. "This is what you've been waiting for...a big break, a life changing chance... Rach, what the hell?"

I sigh and shrug. "Maybe...maybe singing isn't for me. You know, we saw how easy it was to snag photos of me, and I'm not even famous... I don't think I could handle his life."

She frowns. "Rach...don't you think you deserve to find out? Don't say no just because you're scared."

I look at her for a moment, heart pounding. She's right. But now Charlie's here, and even if I said yes, he wouldn't approve. I can't let him run my life, but it's easier to pretend it never happened when he's not...standing in front of you.

"She said no," she answers for me, interrupting.

I close my eyes and frown, knowing my heart is saying otherwise, but there's no point in arguing. I fake a smile and nod reassuringly to Devin, who rolls her eyes and stomps off.

"I'm done, Rach," she tells me. "I'm done trying. You had a fucking panic attack yesterday over this bastard, and you still cling to him like it never happened. How long are you gonna let him come back into your life whenever he feels like it?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Charlie spits, stepping up to me and rather aggressively leaving his hand on my shoulder.

I flinch but hold my smile. It's okay. Just breathe. Just go with it. Just forget his touch...

But no, my body doesn't allow that. My mind blanks out and all I can think of was the first time anything happened. The first night he had suspicions. Black Friday, his house, late, after a long shift.

_"It's two thirty," I state simply, staring at him over my phone from the bed._

_He'd just gotten home.  Just came in and brushed his teeth, then pulled off his shirt and climbed into bed like it didn't matter._

_"You said you weren't working this shift," I continue, setting down my phone in my lap._

_"And you said you weren't talking to him anymore," he snaps, running a hand through his blond hair._

_"I'm talking to Devin," I tell him, setting the phone on the charger for the night, assuming it's done._

_"Stop lying," he answers shortly.  "You were with him today, weren't you?"_

_I narrow my eyes, watching him.  "I haven't seen him since you and I ran into him at that store.  I don't tend to keep in touch with my exes."_

_It's the truth.  I haven't spoken to the guy he's talking about since school.  We never really got along to begin with, so once we split, there was no need to continue to try to be friends.  Truthfully, I never missed him, either, but lately...with all the fighting between Charlie and I, it's hard not to miss those silent days in his dorm._

_"Fuck, Rachel, stop!" he screams, and suddenly, he's ripping off the covers and standing again._

_I reach for him, my hand on his arm as I kneel on the mattress, worry in my eyes.  He's panting, ruffling his hair, and has a wild look in his eyes._

_"Charlie, you took your meds today, right?" I ask calmly, knowing the question might irk him._

_And it does.  He shows his bipolar side, tugging at his hand and removing it from me, pushing me back.  He's bipolar.  I've learned to handle it.  But this...this is what happened when he doesn't take his pills.  And it's late.  Not a good mixture.  Still, I trust him._

_I reach out again, but he bats my hand away, and suddenly, he's screaming at the top of his lungs in my face, causing my heart to freeze._

_"I said don't fucking touch me!" he yells.  "I'm sleeping downstairs, talk to your boy toy all you want!" he snaps, grabbing a pillow._

_"I told you I haven't talked to him since-"_

_"Stop lying!" he yells, and then the sound that echoes around the room is louder than any clap of thunder I've ever heard._

_There's a sting on my cheek, and a ringing in my ears.  I can't hear him as he drops his things and moves back toward me after the hit.  I can only focus on the wall my head's now turned to and the feeling of his hand back lashing against my skin.   Slowly, I raise my shaking hand to my now red skin and try to blink the dizziness from my eyes._

_I've never imagined that this would happen, especially to me.  Not in a million years.  And it has. How do I react?  What's acceptable?  I should be angry, right?  But no, I feel tears in my eyes.  And they only get worse when he reached for me, mumbling apologies.  I ignore his stunned face and turn my head further away from him, reaching for the light._

_"Rach, I'm so sorry baby.  I'm so, so sorry..." he continues, but I darken the room and lay down with my face in the pillows, controlling my tears._

_"Goodnight, Charlie," I say, and all I can do is hope I can fall asleep at some point._

_Tomorrow I'll handle it.  When I'm coherent and it's not two in the morning.  It probably isn't the best idea, but it's all my body can manage right now._

"Rachel?" I hear Devin call. "Rachel! Hey!"

"Yeah?" I ask suddenly, coming back to my senses. "Sorry, I'm good. I was just thinking."

"About?"

"Uh, home..." I mumble.

Charlie's hand squeezes on shoulder and his blue eyes pierce me when I meet them. "Good thing, because I'm taking you home," he informs me.

"You're what?!" Devin shouts. "Uh, no. We're on vacation. You don't get to decide when our plans change."

"Shut up," he snaps. "I'm not taking her back just because I missed her! I got her a gig."

I snort. "What?"

"Downtown. Hard Rock cafe on Thursday," he answers, proud of himself.

I stare. "How'd you manage that?"

"Showed my buddy your video. He's got an in." He smirks, but it isn't the same warm, comforting smirk Downey gives. "Don't say I've never done anything for ya, baby."

"Don't call me that..." I mutter, downing the rest of my water and pushing him off my shoulder. "I'll have to call Erin and Jon. Tell them we're leaving..."

"Are you serious?!" Devin argues, hands on her hips. "We only had two days to hang out after all that?!"

Inside, I'm as depressed as her, but arguing him will make it worse, and a gig at home is better than nothing here. 

"You just said you didn't want to keep singing!" Devin says in astonishment. "And now that he's got some bar lined up for you, you suddenly want it all back?! You could be on a record!"

"Yeah, here," I snap. "Not home. I'd have to move. Everything would change. People would be watching my every step. Literally, like the song says. I don't think I'm ready for that. I just wanna be...like...I don't know, your friendly neighborhood singer. Like-"

"Did you seriously just make a Spider-man reference?" she sighs. "Fine, whatever. Just...don't come crying to me when you realize your missed shot."

The rest of the day is spent packing. Charlie doesn't really help, only sits and watches as he questions everything that happened the past few days. He hasn't asked to see my phone yet, which is great, because I know if he saw Robert's number in there, he'd lose it.

I called my aunt and uncle, telling them I'd sadly miss lunch and that our flight is leaving tonight. Devin was able to secure a ticket on the same flight, not wanting to stay with just my family the rest of the week. I don't blame her, and I feel partially guilty for ending the trip early...but I'm at a loss.

My mind flashes briefly to Robert, wondering what might be if I agreed to record with them. His brown eyes are still so defined in my mind from the night before, the smell of his cologne still stinging in my nose from his goodnight hug. It was literally everything I wanted within arm's reach. But then another part of my mind is convinced he was only nice to us for my aunt and uncle, and nothing more. Guess it doesn't matter now...I'll take the kind image of him instead of the guess I've always had. At least I finally got to meet him.

"I missed you, you know," I hear from behind me when everything's packed up and ready to carry to the car.

I swallow hard and count my breaths as I feel a pair of arms snake around me and hold me a little too tight. He means well right now, but my mind keeps flashing back to everything else. It's like this loop you can't get out of.

I don't respond right away, so he spins me around and meets my lips with a sloppy, unprepared kiss. I wince, without him noticing, and handle it, even though there's no motivation behind me. It's weird, but it's like a switch flipped in me one day, and I just...don't care anymore. There's no feeling of need there, no want to see him.

Suddenly I decide to voice my opinion, stand up for myself...but he's quick to beat me to the punch.

"You know I love you, right?" he asks in a husky voice, his lips at my ear.

I mumble an agreement, tensing up when he kisses my cheek.

"You still love me, don't you?" he asks. "I'm sorry I left like that. I just needed some time to clear my head..." he filibusters.

"Last time I saw you, we broke up, and you moved to South Carolina," I answer with a monotone voice. "So sorry if I'm not super thrilled to see you again."

His face straightens and I know I've pissed him off, but thankfully, Devin's knocking on the door and he lets go of his now tight grip on me and grabs a couple bags.

"I'll get the car started," he decides when she opens the door and shoves past us.

Devin looks at me, concern plastered on her face, and it takes all I have not to comment as I grab my backpack and follow Charlie downstairs. I glance one last time back at the ocean, not knowing the next time we'll be back, then I close the gate behind her and we're loading up the car.

Devin takes the backseat, myself the front, but as I open the door, my eye catches movement next door as a familiar figure loads a few suitcases into his familiar silver car. Behind his dark sunglasses, he glances our way, and he gives a little wave before his grin turns into one of concern, spotting Charlie in the driver's seat. He visibly inhales, but before I can react, Charlie's ordering me to close the door, so I sit down and do. The engine turns on and we make a three point turn to head out. That's the last time I see Robert.

Thankfully, airport security is a breeze, and so is the flight. All Charlie wants to do is hold my hand, so I let him while I plug in headphones and stare out the window, daydreaming about everything that happened while we were in Malibu. When the plane lands, we go to baggage claim, then to parking, and while we drive, I glance at my phone, receiving the notifications I didn't have while I was in the air. The car ride is awkwardly silent, so I let Devin drive and focus on Twitter instead.

@Rachel_Thomas Back home. What an amazing week! I decide to tweet, putting something out there for the followers I've gained.

I scroll through the comments on the mention from Robert's tweet, until I see a new alert come in.

@RobertDowneyJr Thank you to everyone who donated last night. We appreciate it more than you can know. Big things about to happen! #RAF #RandomActThanksYou 

Below are four photos from the event, from his silly poses in front of the stage to the professional shots of him with guests...and one of our dance, snapped by one of the photographers. Oh, so I guess this is how Charlie found out about that.

I like the tweet, and almost instantly, a notification pops up in the corner over my messages. I accept the request, my heart picking up speed as I read it.

RobertDowneyJr: You left? Without saying goodbye?! :O

Huh...maybe he really was being serious about that friend thing... I can't help but chuckle, which alerts Devin and Charlie that I'm up to something, so I quickly shut the phone off as we pull up to my apartment.

"Just a meme," I lie.

Devin hugs me goodnight and promises to call me tomorrow, and Charlie gets out to help me with my bags.

"Listen...I'm kinda tired, so is it cool if I just stay by myself tonight?" I ask when I shut the trunk, knowing Charlie expects to come in. "We can talk tomorrow."

He stares at me, silently debating, before agreeing. "Fine. But I'm picking you up in the morning and taking you to work. Be ready."

I nod and grab my bags, then walk back up to the rolled down window.

"Hey Dev, any chance you could drop him at his place on the way home?" I plead, and she gets the hint.

She's not happy about it, but she'll live. "Fine, but you owe me," she says.

"I owe a lot of people, I guess," I find myself joking.

Thankfully, Charlie only pecks me goodnight, and then I'm able to go into my empty apartment building. The animals are still staying with my mom; she doesn't know we've gotten home. It's late, though...too late to visit, so it'll have to wait till tomorrow morning.

I drop my luggage in my bedroom and turn on the light, brushing my teeth quickly before changing for bed. I should shower, but the sea breeze is still on my hair an it comforts me, so it can wait until the morning. 

Morning, ugh. I guess I'm going back to work. Charlie's going to make me, anyway. I dread that place more than anyone could imagine, but it's better than being alone with him. I may seem fine, but I've just gotten used to being numb around him. Sorry if I don't go into detail every time, but, ya know...easier to black it out.

Sighing, I search my drawer desperately for the familiar white bottle that has been my aid when he comes into my life.

I look into the mirror, analyzing the bruise forming on my eye. This is the third time he's done this. Hit me like that. Left for the night. This time he's dropped me off without even a goodbye, and the frozen peas from my freezer aren't doing much to help. My head pounds and the skin around my eye stings with each blink.

Slowly, my I gaze into my own eyes, ashamed of myself. The thinness in my face is unrecognizable, and the tiredness under my eyes has more than consumed the color in my pale skin. And despite how hard I try to tell myself it isn't my fault...

The tears start to drip, clouding my eyes as my lip trembles. The person I thought I was isn't in there anymore. I'm his, doing whatever he says...afraid of him. The worst part? I hate myself for it.

Blinking, I roughly open the cabinet in search of Tylenol or...something, anything to help the swelling and the pain. I search the bottles, but nothing. Not even liquid couch syrup. I sigh, checking the last bottle: Vicodin from the time I got an injury at work a year or two back. Probably expired, but at this point, I don't really care. I stare at it, nervous, but decide I have nothing else to lose. Like I said, I hate myself...at this point, I could die and I'd be fine with it. Okay, exaggeration? Maybe. Either way, I down one pill, swallowing hard after a long sip of water.

I manage to get back into bed, the dry tears still tugging at my cheeks as I turn out the light and wait for the loopiness from the pill to take over to I can knock out. I've only taken them once before, but I know it'll put me out like a light...soon.

I realize I'm glancing at the Iron Man poster on my wall, I reach for my phone again after popping a pill and swallowing it dry. It immediately unlocks to the screen I was on, the Twitter message shining bright back at me in the darkness. My veins already feel loose, but I can still focus on typing.

Rachel_Thomas: Long story. Working things out with Charlie after all...

It isn't long before I receive a reply; he must have been waiting for anything in return. I remind myself it's also three hours earlier there, so it makes sense that he's still up while I'm ready to fade. Thankfully, the Vicodin is taking its toll early and I happily comply.

RobertDowneyJr: who do i have to harass now? :(

I grin, turning out the light before dropping my phone on the table and letting sleep welcome me with the aid of the comforting pain killer.

Rachel_Thomas: You know where to find me.


	6. Chapter 6

The morning sucks. I'm still a little doped up, the Vicodin does that to me when I don't get eight hours, but whatever. I know the habit will come back as easily as it did before, but it's the only way to sleep when I'm this panicked. I just have to figure out how to get rid of-

A honk from a car outside interrupts my thoughts when I swallow down the rest of my coffee and grab my bag from the kitchen counter. Then, I'm locking the door and wandering outside, headed toward the ride to work. Back into my usual routine.

"How'd you sleep?" Charlie asks me when I sink into the front seat and buckle myself in, clenching my bag tighter than is necessary.

"Fine," I lie, faking a smile.

Thankfully, this morning he's in a good mood, and simply asks for a kiss and then we're off on the twenty minute drive to my office. I've never liked my job much, but at least it's away from him so I can figure out how to make him understand we're done. Like done done. Yeah, I know, being nice...leading him on...it isn't the way to get out of this, but it's better than the violence that'll come if I try to ditch without supervision again.

He drops me off, making me promise to have him over for dinner so we can talk, so I agree just to get out of the car. Devin will ride me home, and hopefully stay as well, but he doesn't know that yet. I put it to the back of my mind as I enter the office, quickly ducking my head and making a beeline for my desk. I don't want to talk, and I know the people around me are going to start asking questions the second I sink down into that seat. 

I sigh in content as I realize everyone's on the phone around me, and grab for the empty coffee mug I cleaned out and left there before the trip. It's a short walk across the room, and when I make the trip to fill it up, I can feel the stares burning into me. My heels feel unstable, but it's probably just to spotlight that I don't like...funny, isn't it? With singing, it's fine. When it's gossip...not so cool. Probably why I keep Charlie's issues under the radar, too.

I make it back in one piece and sit, opening up my files and checking the things I missed, until I hear the familiar swivel of a chair across from me. I look up, forcing myself to be pleasant and smile.

"Yes?" I ask shyly to the prying eyes from two of the people sitting around me.

"You're back early," the man, Jack, observes.

The woman on my other side agrees. "Vacation shut short?"

I shrug. "Had a break here on Thursday, so I decided to take it."

"And leave Mr Downey so soon?" the girl presses, grinning and flashing her eyebrows at me.

"May!" Jack hushes, his face red with embarrassment; he doesn't like these kinds of conversations any more than I do.

"It was just for work," I defend. "My second work."

"And the dance?" she asks, waiting patiently for my answer.

"A charity event," I answer quickly. "How'd you know about that?"

She nods her head toward the wall of my section, the one decorated with my family and friends in photos. A new addition is next to my desktop screen; the photo going around the internet of Robert and I laughing as we danced at the benefit. Then, May and Jack slyly go back to work.

I grin to myself, looking at it, knowing they put it there. Then, I snap a photo and post it on Twitter, because why the hell not?

_@Rachel_Thomas This is what I go back to work to..._

I send the tweet, then tuck my phone away and focus on the day ahead.

Thankfully, the rest of the day goes smoothly, and quite quickly, if I'm honest. Maybe I'm not still stuck in Malibu...though it would be nice to not have to face the issues here. Regardless, when I'm finally able to go home, I have Devin pick me up and drive me back, stopping to grab the animals on the way. I haven't seen my mom since I dropped them off, nor does she know we're home, unless she miraculously started using Twitter again.

"So can you stay tonight?" I ask quietly, breaking the silence in the car after we leave the office.

Devin sighs from the driver's seat, her shoulders falling. "Girl, you know I love you...but I've tried to help. I can't keep doing this."

"Just tonight," I promise. "Please..."

She groans, and I know she's annoyed but what else am I supposed to do? I haven't had time to figure anything out yet.

"If he tries anything, I'm calling the cops," she answers, and I know it's an agreement.

I nod, taking my gaze out the window again. He shouldn't...not with her in the house. But how the hell do I get him out of my life without calling the cops? I can't do that to him. I did love him...at some point. And hell, he's a normal guy when he reliably takes his meds. He just...hasn't lately.

"I know you still care for him," she continues softly. "But this version of him...Rachel, he isn't the same person anymore. They're like two different people. Completely. And the one that you knew when you first met...he isn't coming back."

"If he'd take his medication, he-" I try, but she cuts me off.

"No 'if's! Rach, listen to me... He needs help, but it's not your job to help him."

I turn my head toward her, face neutral as I try to process. "I want to."

She shakes her head. "You want to try to change him back, and it isn't going to work." Then she sighs, parking the car in front of my mother's garage and shifts in her seat to look at me, just as Robert had a couple nights ago. "Take Downey's offer. Get out of here, out of this mess."

"I won't make it far," I argue, unbuckling the seat belt. "The attention so far...it's only because of him."

"At least try," she pushes. "Because you know you love singing, and without police or security...none of this is going to change, and you know it. He can get you out of this place...somewhere far away from Charlie."

I don't answer and move from the car, hearing only the mirroring of her actions behind me as I make it up the stairs to the familiar house. It's small, but all she needs, especially now that I'm out of the house. It's just her and the dog, when I leave her here, anyhow, and part of me wants to offer to let her stay. She makes a big deal about it when I do, but I know she could use the company.

I can hear the barking as soon as my feet sound on the stairs, and when I open the door, the dog's already jumping on me, wagging her tail as if she's never seen me before.

"Get down, you big lump," I groan playfully, then push around her as she moves on to greet Devin instead. "Anyone home?" I call out.

I can hear a reply from the living room, so I make my way toward it and find her sitting on the couch, reading one of her books with her glasses at the tip of her nose. It's funny, really, because while I'm blind as a bat from far away, she can't see close up. Must be a trait I got from my dad...

Anyway, long story short, I'm greeted with a hug once she stands and then she's helping me gather the stuff for the animals so I can cart them back home. We make a stop in the kitchen, where she says hello to Devin, and while they talk, I go to her room to scoop up my little fur ball, Aero...the kitten I rescued a few years back. He's sassy, like me, so we get along well.

"It's gonna be quiet around here again," I hear her say to Devin when I return to the kitchen with my little fluffer.

"You can keep the dog," I mumble, kissing the cat on the head as she purrs.

My mother simply rolls her eyes, leaning against the wall. "She likes you better."

I shrug. "But she knows you. She still likes it here. And you could use company while I'm working."

"I like it quiet," she protests.

"You like blaming yourself for dad," I correct. "Just...why doesn't she hang out here for a little while longer. Just see if you get along. I have to do some rearranging at home anyway, so it'd be really appreciated if you could watch her a couple more days..."

I'm making it hard for her to say no, and eventually she sighs and gives in. "Okay, okay...but only if you sit down and tell me how the trip was before you run out of here..."

I groan internally, wanting to avoid the continuous questions, but I have to tell her, she's my mother.

"I thought you weren't coming back for a while still," she questions as I sit down. "Erin get sick of you?"

"No," I mutter, watching the cat intently. "Charlie got me a gig here. With the attention on that video...couldn't pass it up, ya know?"

"You could for Malibu..." Devin spits under her breath, but forces a smile when I shot her a glare.

"And for Robert Downey Jr," my mother grins, eyes on me. "How the hell did that one happen?!"

I can't help but bite my lip, remembering it....his eyes on me during the song, his hand on my back for the photo, the dance, his hug before he dropped me off that night... I know I'm blushing, so I try to push it down and focus.

"Erin arranged it. Sort of," I answer. "Well, she got Sting, and he and Sting are buddies, so..." I realize I'm rambling so I quickly finish up. "Guess he mentioned I was a fan."

"Was?" Devin accuses.

"Am...still am."

"And they didn't feel like mentioning they were working with him?" my mom continues, sitting forward in her seat to lean on the table.

I know she's referencing the dance...the photo everyone's seen by now. "Guess not. We didn't know till the night before."

"And they forgot to tell us it was something they were working on with him," Erin points out. "Surprised the hell out of us...but Rach here had a grand old time!"

I feel my cheeks start to redden again so I suck in a breath to stabilize myself. "It was just a dance!" I argue.

My mother grins, knowing they're embarrassing me. "Yeah, and what happened after the dance?" she asks suggestively.

"He drove her home," Devin says and I can hear the smile on her lips.

"Rachel Thomas!" my mother scolds in a teasing way, making my jaw drop.

"What?!"

"He went home with you?!" 

"No!" I quickly defend myself. "Sort of. But no. He was staying next door and Erin and Jon were using the penthouse downtown...that's it!"

"I can't believe she didn't take that opportunity..." Devin sighs.

I snap my head toward her and the cat fidgets in my arms before settling down. "Hey, you were drunk!"

"And you two were totally flirting!"

I nearly snort in laughter. "You're crazy."

"Am I?" she questions, raising an eyebrow. "Then why are you messaging him?"

"I-wait, what?!" I gasp. "How do you-"

"You left your phone out here and what do ya know," she explains, reading from the display screen, "via Twitter, new message from @RobertDowneyJr."  
"Holy shit," my mom breathes, hand dramatically on her chest. "My baby's gonna marry an actor."

"Oh, my, God," I chant, standing up and grabbing the cat's box of supplies and food. "He's just asking why we left, that's it. Now I have to get home, Charlie's waiting."

Devin rolls her eyes and my mom laughs at me, making sure to finish with something uncomfortable.

"You've wanted to marry that man since you were fourteen...don't act like you suddenly aren't freaking out," she determines. "I know you and you're just trying to play it cool."

"I'm leaving, mother," I decide, ignoring the comment. "I'll come back for her next weekend, unless you decide you want to hang out a few more days," I add, motioning toward the dog with the box.

Thankfully, I'm able to usher Devin out without any more comments on it, and when we are all securely back into the car, cat included, I finally get a chance to look at the message Devin was talking about. More importantly...it takes up most of the ride, since I'm only a short few minutes down the road.

_@RobertDowneyJr: Cute photo. ;) Quite a good looking guy you've got there._

I blush again, remembering the tweet I sent out from work and the display at my desk my co workers put up. Of course he saw it. And of course he's still being cocky as shit. So, I play him back.

_@RachelThomas: Eh, he's okay._

When I put the phone down and we arrive back, I can almost picture the familiar expression on his face... He'll be confused, and a little hurt and stunned, I'm sure, but hopefully he'll be a an adult and take it. I'm too much of a chicken to tell him he's hot as hell, so this will have to do.

And suddenly, my fun is ripped out as we make it back. Devin takes the cat, avoiding the confrontation with Charlie that I know will come when we walk in.

To my surprise, he's calm as he waits in the kitchenette, leaning on the counter. I drop my phone on the far end of it, forcing a smile.

"Sorry I'm late...I had to relieve my mom of babysitting duty," I say casually, setting down her box of necessities as well.

"You said you've come straight home," he answers, trying to sound calm.

I blink, looking him over. He looks happy enough, but his words speak otherwise. His blue eyes are darker than usual, making me shift uncomfortably. He's changed since work; no longer in his nicer clothes...now he's hanging around in his gym shorts and a tshirt, making it very clear that he made himself at home while he waited.

"Last I checked you don't live here," Devin growls, setting the cat down in the living room. "You just have a key for some fucked up reason."

He smirks, narrowing his eyes in amusement. "Listen, sweetie, you might not like me, but she does...isn't that right, honey?" he asks, trying to sound kind.

I hum some sort of noise out in agreement, realizing how uncomfortable this is going to be, so I change my earlier decision. "You don't have to stay, Dev," I offer. "I just needed helped with her stuff."

She frowns, eyes flickering between the two of us, and I give a curt nod, promising I'll be fine...after all, he seems okay tonight despite us not making it back earlier.

"Okay..." she slowly agrees. "Just, call me later?"

I smile in return, and then she's saying goodbye and making her way back to her car. Thank God she isn't one to pester in front of others...only alone, which is probably worse and why I avoid using her to get through my panic attacks...

So, where was I? Oh, right. So, then my feet are swiftly carrying me to the bedroom to change and use the bathroom. Only, when I take out my earrings and turn around to find something in the closet, he's close behind, closing the door behind him. 

"Did you eat yet?" I ask quietly, feeling my stomach rumble, but the reply isn't to anything I've said.

"What the fuck is this, Rachel?" he asks, his voice loud but not yelling...not yet.

"What is what?" I ask as he shoves the phone into my hand.

"Why is he still talking to you?!"

"Uh, I don't know, cause he wants to be friends or something?" I state, more as a sarcastic question, and then turn to go back to the dresser.

His hand grips my arm, spinning me back, and I can recognize that fiery look in his eyes anywhere.

"You told me you weren't fucking him," he hisses, face inches from mine as he roughly pulls me in. "And then I have you coming home late and I see this shit?!"

I glance at the phone, pushing back from him and see a new message, one not so discreet about what I was joking around with, but it's obvious Charlie took it the wrong way.

"I don't even know what he's talking about," I answer, placing it on the top of the dresser. "He just asked why we left early!"

"Bullshit," Charlie snarls, and yes, now he's mad.

Fuck, why did I send Devin home?

I can feel myself go off balance as he shoves me back against the wall, holding me by the collar. Is it bad if I do nothing but let my head bounce off, closing my eyes, and pretending to be somewhere else...anywhere else. Usually it's a beach, a mountain, somewhere calm to keep steady, but this time it's-

"Downey, really?! He could be your dad!"

"Not really," I protest, shoving at him which only makes him pin me down harder. "He's not that old...now get the fuck off me!"

But my back talking is met simply with a loud crack and the sting on my cheek that I've been so comfortable with over the past few years. I let my head turn, swallowing the pain, and do my best to remain emotionless. My mind wanders....back to where it was a moment before. Back to the alley, back to the front of the house. Back to Robert, his warm voice reminding me this isn't okay. But then when I taste blood on my lip, I turn my eyes back to Charlie and blink, clearing the water in them.

"Get the fuck over whatever it is with him, Rachel, or so help me God..." he warns, grabbing his work clothes from the dresser top next to my phone.

"Or what?!" I snap, letting myself do what I couldn't do before. "You gonna take my phone away? Make me let you move in? I guess you haven't realized this yet, but I can't stand to be around you right now!" I yell back, the confidence fueling me.

That is, until he cuts me off, grabbing my hair and pulling to bash my head off the dresser. I groan, gasping for air as I sink to the floor, my phone cluttering to the ground next to my crumpled mess.

He crouches down, wiping the trail of blood appearing from my forehead. "You will not speak to me that way."

It's a cool tone, monotone, and it's calmer than ever, which is surprising as hell. Usually he's upset, or want forgiveness, or... This is just pure anger. Pure heartlessness. This isn't my Charlie...Devin was right.

But it's over, and he's standing again, not bothering to help me up, and when he swings the door open and walks out, I hear the front door slam and the car engine rev as he speeds off. A moment of silence passes and then I notice the tear streaking down my cheek, dripping to the floor and staining it a light red as it mixes with the drying blood. I'm not even sad, I'm just...still in shock.

Thankfully, my handsome Aero wanders in, rubbing against my side when he approaches, and reminds me that my phone is lying there, as well. I open the messages, wanting to know what exactly set him off.

_@RobertDowneyJr: Just okay?! That's not what I got from our dance. I'm hurt._

I sniffle, trying to clear my airway, and as much as I want to laugh at the message, I can't. I hesitate though, debating on what to say. He told me to call him. To tell him if something happens. I should, shouldn't I? I stood up to him. I did it. Maybe he won't come back, maybe...

My heart races as I try to make the decision. I hover over the reply option, opening it and staring at the blank box. What do I say? Should I ask if I can call him? Maybe he's working. Maybe...I'm just being ridiculous and I should let Charlie cool down.

The internal debate it going on and on, so eventually I settle on the safe side, and send the only tame thing that comes to mind...the only thing that reflects my mood.

_@RachelThomas: You're a big boy, you can take it._

Sighing, I pet the cat before pushing myself into a standing position. My head is throbbing, and I stumble into the bathroom, hitting the light on the way in. Peeking in the mirror is not fun; there's a blood streak from my forehead to my eye and my lip has a gash that's stinging quite a bit. I dab both with water on a towel to clean up, then stare at my reflection, hating myself more than ever for wanting to give him yet another chance.

 _"Whatever you think you deserve...you don't,"_ I remember, almost like an echo, from when he said goodbye. I want to believe him, but...I promised Charlie, and...

I give up on thinking, grabbing for the pill bottle I know is hiding in the cabinet...the familiar white friend of mine. I down two dry, one for the pain and one for...well, just to sleep, I guess. I swallow them and then I'm staring at myself again, waiting for them to take effect as though it'll happen right away. I don't even care that I haven't eaten...my appetite's gone.


	7. Chapter 7

I'll do ya a favor and skip the boring stuff. Sound good? Unless you want to hear about the little details...like what I ate for breakfast or whatever, but even I don't remember that. Plus, you'd probably hate me for saying it, but yeah, maybe Devin's right about me hoping Charlie can change back to his old self.

I had called off the show downtown the next morning after discovering what my face looked like. It wasn't too bad, just a small black spot on my cheek and that cut on my lip, all of which makeup could fix, but not under lights like that. Plus, that's not the name I want to get for myself. If photos started circulating...

Anyway, I decided I wasn't going and let me tell you, he was mad. Real mad. But then out of no where after work the next day, he shows up with flowers, and he's apologizing...the usual turn around. To my surprise, he agreed with my choice not to show at the booking, but it's probably just because he knows as well as I do that it'll hurt my reputation as an artist. Canceling last minute? Yeah, not cool. That's what he wants, isn't it? To secure me here, make sure things never get too out of hand and make sure I never have a window to leave? The scheduling in the first place was just to get me home. And it's all so obvious now.

Even so, when he decided to apologize, everything seemed to turn around. So yeah, maybe that shouldn't have happened, but at least things are starting to get back to normal now. I haven't taken any meds to fall asleep in a few weeks, and that's good, right? I guess the fact that Downey and I haven't really talked since then either has helped, but who knows.

@RobertDowneyJr: No show? Didn't see Devin spam your video yet.

He had sent the message innocently that weekend...the only reply he's given me since I tried to joke with him. I'm not gonna lie, at first I was a little depressed that I didn't have a reply from him right away, but at least he had interest in my schedule. I wonder if he was curious enough to ask Erin or Jon about me, because I surely hadn't told him.

@Rachel_Thomas: Not feeling well. Skipped.

That's all I gave him, ignoring him when he decided to guess.

@RobertDowneyJr: ...what happened? Are you okay?

So here we are, nearly a month later with no hope of another show being scheduled. And I miss it. I do. But I've got a lot on my plate, and Charlie still doesn't like the idea of me taking up Robert's offer. We've been better, but he still has his days. Aero isn't too fond of him, but he spends most of the nights when he's over perched on his tree in front of the window, anyhow. Neither is Devin, but what else is new? He's been more like himself...and maybe that's the closeness...but I missed him. Maybe that was really the last time...

Thankfully it hasn't quite snowed yet, but the days are getting chilly; it is almost December, after all. I've been working extra hours which hasn't let me even try to look for gigs, but Devin's head of a charity night benefiting her church next week for the holidays and she came to me first to ask me to sing. I'm hesitant, but I want to accept. It's just a few Christmas carols. Charlie, on the other hand...doesn't agree.

"You're joking, right?" he asks, setting down the bottle on my kitchen counter after dinner, leaning over on his elbows.

"No, I think I'm going to do it," I hum back, putting the dishes away.

"I don't want you to do it," he argues and I sigh, turning to face him with my arms crossed.

"Why?"

He raises an eyebrow, standing straight to move around the counter toward me. "No money. Why bother?"

"She's my friend, Charlie," I argue. "And it's been a few weeks, I could use this show, even if it's small."

He doesn't look happy and I faintly see that familiar glint return to his eyes.

"Besides," I continue, "I turned down the one thing that could've paid for you. So don't take this away too."

"For me?" he snorts. "It wasn't for anyone."

"You're just happy because I won't be hanging around with him and you know it," I sigh. "You're jealous."

I turn my back to him, facing the dishes again, and go back to rinsing the plates, but a grip is suddenly tight around my wrist and I'm spun around, dropping the plate in the sink. It cracks, laying in the bottom of the bowl as I face Charlie, tensing my entire body for the first time in a few weeks.

"Don't think I'm not on to you," he hisses, face inches from my own.

"Stop it, you're hurting me," I whine, trying to pry his hand off with no success. "Did you take your meds this morning?!"

His eyes narrow. "I told you I don't need them."

"This..." I warn steadily, "this is exactly why you do."

"You're not going to do it," he decides, changing the subject. "Tell her no."

"You're not my manager," I growl, shaking until he lets me go. "I'm doing it and don't try to stop me."

"You're not," he answers, shoving off my response.

"What," I huff, rolling my eyes. "You gonna beat the shit out of me again? Make some stupid attempt to show control? Cause I've had enough and it's not gonna -"

I want to end with 'work' but before I can answer his hand reaches up for me, latching onto my throat and pushing back. I stumble until I fall on my toes, grasping at his hands, but he doesn't let go. There's a stinging, a tightening, and even though I'm gasping for air, he keeps his narrowed eyes burning into me, talking low and steady.

"You are my girlfriend," he tells me, his blue eyes burning. "You don't answer to her, or that pedophile in California."

"I don't answer to you, either," I manage, and when I do he drops me.

I grab for my throat, coughing in air, but when I look up again he raises his hand and makes contact with my cheek, the sharp sound breaking the silent air space.

"You're going to regret that," he tells me easily, a warning.

Next, he's finishing off his bottle and tossing it in the sink, grabbing at his jacket on the chair near the table. I can hear his keys jingling but I don't bother looking up. Instead, I stare at the floor, where a small drop of blood escapes my mouth and lands, heaving. It had been three weeks. Three weeks and nothing.

Finally, he heads out and I try to focus on my breathing. My phone buzzes on the counter top and nearly makes me jump, saving me from the trance, but I can't move. I glance that direction and see Devin's face light up under the time. It's already almost ten. She works late so she's up late, but it should be my bedtime soon.

And suddenly, as I glance at the empty bottle he left in my kitchen, my mind's off a few years back, when the two of us first met him...when he was someone else.

_I watch my phone light up on the bar counter, my friend's face as the display contact. Of course she's going to wonder when I'll be back, but I don't want to pick up right now. No, my mind's focused on him; the blond next to me, in his tight tshirt and boots, sitting on the stool sipping his beer._

_"Friend drama?" he asks suddenly, the first thing he's said to me._

_Shit, I didn't even know he noticed me. Uh...English. English, I need words._

_"Room mate problems," I correct, suddenly kicking myself for not being more creative._

_"That's why I live alone," he responds kindly, a twinkle in his eye._

_The bottle reaches his lips again and I watch his throat bob as he takes another sip of the beer. Then, when his gaze lands on me again, I clear my throat and down the rest of the wine in my glass, blushing hard. His eyes are so blue they could match the sky._

_"You know, a girl as pretty as you shouldn't be hanging around an ugly place like this," he comments, and I tuck my hair behind my ear and keep my gaze down, embarrassed._

_"Thank you..." I mutter, "but I beg to differ."_

_He smirks and I hear a faint chuckle and I'm drawn to it. "You always this shy? Or is it just me?"_

_My eyebrows press together as I comprehend, feeling foolish._

_"I don't know you," I point out._

_His eyes rest on me and he doesn't falter. "Do you want to?"_

_I narrow my own, analyzing him. Is this him being playful, or is he actually trying to seduce me after a few words? I can't tell, to be honest. It drives me nuts when guys play this game...I'm never sure._

_Then, he's bursting out in laughter, setting the now empty bottle down on the counter. "Relax a little, I'm just bullshitting."_

_I fake a smile and sip at my drink, looking away at last. He takes advantage, though, and slips a business card in front of my nose on the bar top._

_"In case you change your mind."_

I finally snap back as the phone keeps buzzing, pick it up, and hesitate, staring at the caller ID. Then I decide to let it go to voicemail, ignoring it when I click end call so it stops buzzing. My breathing still isn't okay, and I grip the small device as I ride out the stinging that's still present in my cheek. He's really going to control me. Make sure I never get a decent gig again. And I can't tell Devin or she'll get the cops involved and I still know there's good in him somewhere. I sink to the floor, sitting against the cabinets, and I make a decision. Before I can change my mind, I scroll through the contacts to the photo I've kept hidden since California and bring it up to my ear with trembling hands and a held breath.

After quite a few rings, I hear a fumbling noise and they pick up.

"...Yeah?" the deep voice answers, raspy and obviously asleep.

I swallow nervously, trying not to sound upset. "Mr Downey...?"

"Robert," he corrects and I can hear him huffing out and shifting in bed and immediately feel guilty. "What the hell time is it?"

"Uh...nine forty six,"I mumble slowly. "Sorry, I-"

"Not here, sweetheart," he groans, the rasp in his voice slowly getting lighter. "Mind telling me who this is now and how you got this number?"

I exhale slowly, focused on my breathing again as my free hand shakes against the red spot on my cheek. "Rachel..." I breathe, "and you gave it to me."

"Shit," he curses, obviously moving to force himself awake when he hears that. "Hey. Where've you been?"

"Busy," I lie. "I woke you up, didn't I?"

"Uh," he starts, looking for an excuse, I guess. "No, I was up."

"You're a terrible liar," I joke with a soft laugh and I can nearly hear his eye roll. 

"I'm always up at...one AM, Jesus..."

The last part comes off as stunned and a little upset but he doesn't tell me.

My brows squeeze together as I try to comprehend. "Where are you?"

"England. Press tour stuff. Premieres."

"Oh," I remember. "Right. Sorry, I'll let you go back to bed, I just-"

"No, don't," he jumps in.

I blush, thinking of the fact that he just asked me to keep talking to him. What changed since Malibu? Those few days he was a total ass to me and then we dance and now he's acting like he's always been a friend.

"Are you okay?" he asks next when I pause and suddenly, my throat stings and I blink back tears, letting the emotions hit me.

"Yeah..." I try not to let it, but my voice cracks, and he notices.

"What hap-"

"I'm good, I'm good," I insist, but I'm not. "I just...I don't know why I called." I sigh. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he reassures after a small pause and I can tell he's searching for a way to distract me. "I scheduled a wake up call for two anyway. Best time to...do whatever owls do."

I can't help but giggle, but then the tears seep back in and suddenly I'm crying on the phone to him, not speaking, but the silence isn't uncomfortable...it's nice, just knowing he's listening.

"I'm sorry," I breathe in a high pitched voice as I wipe my eyes and try to settle down.

"What's going on?" he asks, and suddenly he sounds more serious...more concerned.

"Charlie," I whisper, "he just..."

I immediately regret it and shut up, but he's quick.

"Did he hurt you?" he presses.

I choke on my tears as they steady and don't reply, so he asks again.

"Is that why you didn't do that gig?"

I don't want to talk about it. Not yet. I just want the distraction that he had given in the alley. The only thing that's been comforting as of late, no offense to Devin or Aero.

"What's the weather like there?" I ask instead, knowing it had to give him the hint.

And thankfully, he takes it. "...Snowy. Cold. I miss the sun."

"Sun?" I repeat. "What's that?"

"Good ole Pennsylvania getting you down?" he muses.

I hum in agreement, starting to forget the swelling of my cheek. "I'll be waiting quite a while for clear skies again."

"More reason to come back to California," he suggests and it even sounds like he's lazily smiling.

"I don't think I could stand the dry heat," I admit and he nearly snorts in reply.

"Are you telling me you like rain?"

I bite my lip, feeling a grin come on as everything else slips out of my head. "Is that a bad thing?"

He mumbles an agreement, still half asleep, but awake enough to comprehend. "You're crazy."

"So I've been told," I sigh, looking at the cat who's coming to wrap herself around my legs.

"Being crazy's a good thing," he offers on the other line. "I'm crazy. I'm a good thing."

I roll my eyes to myself at his cocky banter, suppressing a chuckle. "Being good at acting doesn't make you a 'good thing' all together," I tease and he fake gasps.

"I'm good at plenty besides just acting," he suggests.

I can't help but blush, tugging on my lip with my teeth again, and dare to press. "Oh yeah? Name one thing."

"Singing," he gives tamely. "You said so yourself."

"Okay, other than that!" I laugh and I can feel his smile radiating through the receiver. "Something I haven't pointed out."

"Uh...meditating...sex," he answers easily and I can feel my face redden.

I open my mouth to reply, but can't find words. What he hell do I say to that? I don't even know how long I'm silent, because he's soon letting out a muffled laughter on the other end, moving on.

"What about you? Give me something besides singing."

"Um..." I mumble, still embarrassed by his comment. "Drawing. Writing...meditating, too. Sex," I answer smugly.

And it works. He's clearing his throat and I can tell I've made him uncomfortable this time.

"We should try it together sometime," he answers finally, forcing his words and I swallow down the sudden urge to cough and drop my phone.

"We, uh, we should-" I stutter, and then he's laughing his ass off again at me.

I turn bright red as he answers, feeling like an idiot.

"Meditating. You know, that thing you said before-"

"I know..." I groan, head hanging in shame. "Sorry, it's been a long day..."

Yeah, that kills the mood, but whatever.

"Anything else happen?" he asks softly, not minding the change.

"Just work. Same old."

"So tell me, Miss Thomas," he pries, "what do you do when you're not standing in the spotlight on stage?"

"Apparently wake up huge movie stars in the middle of the night," I sigh, then correct myself. "Just accounting work. Nothing special. Numbers and papers for a big company that doesn't know I exist."

"Anyone I would use?"

I smirk, biting my nails this time. "Not that I know of, unless you're providing Capital One credit cards to people under the table."

"Shit, you caught me," he sighs. "Now I gotta go undercover."

"I won't tell," I whisper, trying my best to sound playful, though I probably just sound like I'm falling asleep to be honest.

Shit, sleep...he's probably pissed he's still up.

"Thank you," I sigh, realizing it's well after ten by now. "I just couldn't go to Devin and my mom-"

"It's fine, Rachel," he purrs and I blush. "I told you to call."

"Not at one in the morning," I chuckle and shake my head on my end. "I should let you get some sleep so you're not sleeping through whatever you're doing tomorrow..."

"Just the premiere in the afternoon," he brushes off, then pauses. "Would be nice to have a date, though. Make sure I do stay awake, keep me on my toes, ya know..."

"I'm sure any sane girl would be happy to go with you," I answer quickly, but my gut is killing me as I secretly wish he was thinking about me.

I can almost hear his smirk as he chuckles lightly through the receiver. "Maybe I need someone a little crazy, then."

My heart skips, remembering how he called me crazy tonight, but I brush it off. Surely it's just coincidence.

"Goodnight, Miss Thomas," he adds with care and I bite my lip.

"Goodnight, Mr Downey..."

I wait for him to hang up and I hear the click before I pull the phone away from my ear, sighing. One day I'm going to find courage to tell him...tell someone. I don't know what's wrong with me, but there's still something that's keeping me hoping the Charlie that I knew is still in there. But maybe they're right...you can't change people, they can only change themselves.

My mind's still on the conversation while I scoop up the cat and put her in bed, then head to brush my teeth. My neck is sore and I can already feel a bruise setting in, but hope it's not as bad as it feels. Devin's going to ask, I know.

I splash some water on my face, go through my usual routine of brushing my hair, changing into a tshirt and shorts to sleep in, and then go for the Vicodin bottle I've been keeping in my side table by the bed before I tuck myself in; I wouldn't be sleeping without these. No, I'd be stupidly panicking, about whatever little thing I blamed on myself for the day.

One thing I'm not blaming myself for, though? How easy it was to talk to Downey. Easier than it ever was to talk to Charlie.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning*: There is mature content in this chapter. Also, sorry this is short, but from here on out I have tons written already, so expect more updates.
> 
> Please let me know if you want smut in upcoming chapters, by the way.

The good news? The next few days flew by and it's finally the weekend before Thanksgiving.

The bad news? My face is a swollen mess from yet another fit with Charlie, and I'm pretty sure I'm still bruising at the neck from that one night a while back. Thank God for winter, am I right?

It's Saturday today, and Devin decided to kindly wake me by announcing herself at my door, and I barely had time to pull on a collared shirt and some jeans before she came barging in. She definitely noticed my puffy eyes, but I passed it off as allergies. Yeah, it hurts, but it's better to keep it inside, because who really wants to listen to me bitch? Plus, she already threatened the cops, and I really don't want to get into that, even if I'm starting to second guess my relationship with Charlie.

"Remind me why we need to go Christmas shopping before December?" I ask, grumpy, as she rushes me into her car.

"Because we need to get the best stuff before it sells out on Friday!" she argues.

"It's also ten in the morning. Who the hell is even open at ten in the morning?!" I groan, sinking down into the seat and tipping the hat I decided to wear over my eyes to get a few minutes of added rest.

"Just because you don't acknowledge any of the hours before noon doesn't meant they don't exist," she teases. "Plus, I need extra time to grab decorations for your new place, too!"

I sigh, knowing I'm going to lose this fight. Christmas is my absolute favorite holiday, but I don't think I need much more than I had at the old apartment. I moved in the spring, and I have a couple extra rooms to myself now that I'm in an actual house, and I know she's eager to take on the challenge. I just don't think I'm really into it as much this year...but maybe that's just the oncoming depression talking... I kid, but honestly, it gets a little repetitive and disheartening to do the same routine over and over, especially when we hit the season of nothing but gray skies: wake up, go to work, come home and fight, cry, shower, wait for the Vicodin to kick in.

"It'll be fun," she promises.

That was before she drug me into the mall, where there's a ton of people, already shopping for the holidays, apparently as insane as she is. I haven't even started a shopping list, but who do I really have to shop for? My mom. Charlie, maybe.

"So why are you in such a mood today?" she asks once she picks a store and we're casually shopping through the throw pillows for something Christmasy enough to match my brown sofa.

I pull at some sequins on one particularly decorated pillow, then mumble a response. "Black Friday."

"Oh."

It's common knowledge between she and I. She knows it all, and she's the only one that does. Well, the details, anyway. I guess I kinda told Robert, but not about the day. Not about how it started.

"Are you still seeing him?" she presses finally, and I crack my jaw at the uncomfortable feeling rising over me.

"Sort of," I confirm quietly. "He's been better," I add, lying through my teeth as I pull at the collar of my button down flannel shirt.

"You always say that," she reminds me. "Promise that's the truth?"

"Yep."

I feel bad for her...I do. I feel bad for lying. For being such a shitty friend lately. We used to have fun...a lot more fun than this, and Malibu was pretty damn close to that kind of fun again. Disney, especially... I don't even know where to start to make up for it, but maybe Downey's right...maybe I need to get rid of Charlie so I can find myself again.

"I'm buying you these," I hear and when I look up, she's holding two delicately detailed throw pillow with matching reindeer up.

I raise an eyebrow, nearly shuddering. "You know I hate deer."

That earns a frown, so she tosses them back and pulls a similar set up with snowmen. I nod, approving that I can tolerate those, and then she bounces off to the counter. Thankfully, only one person is in line...it's still early. I check my watch and it's only about eleven ow, which means maybe we can avoid the busy part of the day and I'll let her decorate when I get back home.

When we reach the counter, I'm definitely taken aback. The guy has dirty blond hair, wavy as it falls in his face, and Devin's got heart shaped eyes as soon as she notices him. He's probably a little younger than us, but isn't everyone anymore? I mean, I'm twenty-nine. Seems like that's just out of range these days.

"Find everything okay?" he asks, and she nods eagerly, blushing and unable to hide it.

I roll my eyes from her side, smiling kindly at him. "Yes, thank you."

His brown eyes lay on me and I realize the recognition that falls over his face, but I'm definitely not used to it. I blink, waiting, until he finally speaks up.

"I've seen you somewhere...have we met?" he asks as he scans one of the pillows.

"No, I don't think-"

"She's a singer. You may have seen her on YouTube!" Devin interjects and I sigh, glaring her direction.

"It's nothing..." I answer sweetly, and then she's poking my side.

"Robert Downey Jr isn't nothing!" she scolds and the man's eyes widen.

"Yeah...yeah, I think I did see that!" he grins, scanning the second pillow. "Wow, that must've been something, huh?!"

"Yeah..." I agree absent mindedly as I feel my phone start buzzing in my hand.

Speak of the Devil... That stupid photo of me crying in my aunt's kitchen next to Robert pops up, and my heart starts to race again. Why in God's name is he calling me right now?! This is beyond weird...all of it.

"I uh...I gotta take this," I mumble, leaving Devin to flirt with the guy at the counter as he bags our stuff for her; I'm not really interested anyway.

I remove myself from the store, returning to the main hall, and sit myself in one of the chairs in the open area. I clear my throat before answering the incoming call, nervous as hell as to why my celebrity crush is still talking to me.

"Hello?" I manage, embarrassed by the squeak in my voice.

"Miss Thomas," comes the reply. "Did I wake you?"

"Uh...no, actually. I've been up... Devin made me go shopping with her," I answer easily after quickly recovering.

"On a Saturday? At eleven in the morning?" he sighs, and I realize how human he is; this is exactly what I said this morning!

I can't help but raise and eyebrow, amused. "Aren't you in England?"

"Uh, Germany now, actually. Same time zone."

"So..." I do the math quickly in my head. "Isn't it like four there?" Then, I pause. "Wait, were you trying to wake me up?!"

I can almost hear him grin his reply. "No, I would never..." A chuckle follows, and then, "payback. At least it would've been..."

"How long have you been plotting that one?"

"...About a week."

"You're insane," I sigh, rolling my eyes at how childish he is something. "Sorry to burst your bubble... Better luck next time, I guess."

"Rob, I'm going live in a second," I hear somewhere in the background next, confusing me.

"You can wait a a few minutes," he argues, hushed and obviously away from the receiver.

"Wait, where are you right now?" I ask finally, wondering why he called me if he was busy with something.

"On the way to the red carpet," he tells me as if it's no big deal.

"And you're on the phone with me?! Are you crazy?!"

"No, but I do recall you calling me insane," he teases. "A little different, though."

"Get off the phone with me and go do your weird star stuff," I demand, and he laughs his high pitched amused laugh back, and my heart melts.

"Fine. But it's not gonna be as fun without someone to harass," he jokes.

I notice Devin approaching, so I smile at her and try my best to wrap up before she makes it over to me just to avoid the questions. She has no idea Robert and I have been talking, outside of the few messages he's sent over Twitter from back when we left Malibu.

"Harass your date," I offer, and he snorts in response.

Somehow, it's still attractive.

"Don't have one."

"You should work on changing that," I mumble back.

"Yeah...well, I guess I'll have to wait till next time I can wake you up!" he tosses back playfully, and I sigh.

"Have fun with that, I tend to mute my phone," I answer truthfully, and he gasps, obviously fake.

"Rude," he huffs. "All right, I gotta go. Jimmy's up my ass about this live shit."

"Have fun."

"Talk to you soon, Miss Thomas," he nearly sings, and then he ends the call.

The second the line disconnects, I'm grinning like an idiot, biting my lower lip out of habit as I try to suppress a smile. It's not the best decision, because then Devin's up my ass.

"Who was that?" she asks with a cocked eyebrow.

"Just...Charlie," I lie, and for some weird reason, she buys it.

"You two are really getting on better?"

I force a nod, standing so we can continue on, and that's the last I talk about it. Well, until after dinner Thanksgiving night.

Nothing like a small holiday dinner ending in ruins and reminding me that I need to get out, right? I should've expected as much, though. It's been two years. Two years since everything started, tonight. And it's been haunting me all week, but I pushed it aside, hoping I'd forget.

But I didn't.

"Are you sure you can get home okay?" I ask my mother when she grabs her coat from my bed and makes her way to the door after Devin.

"I think so," she answers with a smile. "You know I hate driving at night. Fucks with my eyes."

I sigh, knowing she probably shouldn't be driving without her glasses, but she refuses to take them places. I guess she didn't expect to stay that long after dinner though, but she and Devin started talking politics, and here we are, almost ten at night, on Thanksgiving night. We never really did keep in contact with family much...my mom's side never comes into the city and I don't have enough time off of work to travel, so it's just us. Devin goes to her folk's, and then she stops over. That's usually when she winds up decorating...but not this year. This year, things are in full swing.

And so here we are, after I say goodbye to my mom, and I'm clearing the table, taking the dishes to the kitchen sink. Charlie's still around, and this is the first time he's been alone with me since the last incident. We barely talked this week, and it was obvious he realized that he fucked up, yet again, when he brought over flowers with his contribution to the meal. Deciding not to put on a scene in front of my mother and my best friend, I kindly accepted, and tolerated it for the rest of dinner.

Until I'm placing the plates in a neat stack in the sink and I suddenly feel two hands at my hips, and a body pressed behind me. Absolutely not what I'm in the mood for right now.

So, I sigh, and press my lips together before arguing. "Charlie," I groan, annoyed. "I'm tired. Not tonight."

"It's been forever since we've done anything," he protests, and then his breath is felt on my neck as he pulls my hair away and lightly kisses my skin.

I shiver at the contact, but not for the reason I'm sure he thinks, so he takes it a step further, pressing me between him and the edge of the counter by the sink, his hands finding their way to the zipper on my jeans.

"Don't pretend you don't want to," he whispers and I try to shrug him off, but it only makes him enclose me further.

"I don't," I protest, dropping the plates completely when his fingers hook in the belt loops of my jeans and he tugs them down below my hips.

"Let's go to bed," he offers, and then he's tugging my by the shoulders back and toward the hallway.

"Stop," I demand, trying to sound in charge, but it doesn't do much.

Instead, he's pulling me roughly against him as he backs us through the bedroom door, and his mouth covers mine in a sloppy kiss that is not at all inviting anymore. I push him a little, but he only takes the opportunity to grab my hands and hold them hostage, and then he's working my underwear off and tugging his own shorts down. Then, he releases me, but my knees hit the edge of my bed, and then he's forcefully shoving me down.

I groan, aggravated, and shove at his chest, but he takes this as a moan and quickly attaches his lips to my neck instead. Flashes of the past holidays blink in my mind...the first time he hit me, the first time he begged for me to stay. Giving in. The sting, the sharp snap when his hand touched my face... Then that same hand finds it's way down to my naked lower half and he quickly runs a finger down my center, making me jerk and whine, and I guess it turns him on instead of alerts him, because I feel his teeth bite down on my shoulder under the collar of my shirt, and he's reaching over me for the bedside table, rummaging through the drawer for the box of condoms he placed there a while back. 

"Charlie," I breathe, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, but then he takes advantage of my openness and shoves a finger inside, not so gently.

I bite my lip as the stinging subsides when he starts thrusting it, not giving me any time to adjust before pushing in a second. Nothing but his body weight is holding me down now, his other hand tearing the package open and tossing the wrapper aside. Then, he reaches between us and he's rolling it onto his length, prepping himself even though I'm still trying to ignore the lack of wetness that's making me so uncomfortable as he gives his best attempt at foreplay.

It's not that I entirely don't want it...I guess I do, a little. But the only desire that's there is the desire to actually feel good. It has absolutely nothing to do with him. In fact, he's almost a turn off at this point...I guess maybe I don't love him anymore. I shouldn't be sick of him if I love him, right?

Realizing this has gone too far to stop now, I sigh and lay there, staring at the ceiling as he removes his fingers and preps himself and then lines up with my entrance, giving me a second before replacing the two digits with himself, shoving up and into me with a hard thrust that only leaves me clenching, unable to accept it. My teeth clench and that's the last bit of effort I give before he's moving swiftly in and out, my focus on the ceiling, trying to picture absolutely anything but this situation happening right now.

All of it...all of what they said...is right. Devin, Downey...they hit the nail on the head. And as I listen to him enthusiastically grunt and count the seconds passing by, I hate myself more and more for letting him come over in the first place. But look at me...powerless, unable to defend myself. I should be thankful someone wants me like this, right? I mean, in school, no guy even looked twice.

And eventually, he slows own, exhaling loudly before pulling himself out, not giving a fuck if I've reached any kind of pleasure in this. Things definitely have changed. He used to be a giver, but not so much anymore.

I feel like I black out, though, even though I'm alert, because the next thing I know, he's rolling off of me, moving himself into the bathroom to dispose of the used condom, and then he's back at my bedside, collecting his boxers and shorts and putting them back into place, tossing my jeans and underwear at me. I let them fall over me, not wanting to deal with it right now.

"Guess it's time to head out," he decides, and I hum in agreement. "Love you."

"Love you too..." I murmur, heart not in it, and then he's gone.

Talk about fast and unnecessary.

And then something clicks. It is a lie. I don't love him. I want nothing to do with him. And regardless of what just happened, I feel more comfortable now without him. I would rather be alone.

I mean, to be honest, I've always been like this. I give and give and give, and then one day, something just snaps, and that's it. I can give chance after chance, until I finally decide I've had enough. And this...tonight, tonight decided it. I'm not happy anymore, and I miss it. Too much. I want to look forward to holidays, to enjoy my time off of work, to craft and sing and...everything I wanted to do before he took it away.

And as if on queue, something fuzzy rubs against my arm and I finally push myself up into a sitting position, patting the cat that's joined me on the bed on the head. What would I do without her? 

Taking it as a sign of encouragement, I grab for my underwear and step into them, though I feel disgusting. I'll clean up later, but for now...before I go for my nightly dosage of pills and a hot shower before bed to wash the disgrace off of myself and start fresh, I wander into the kitchen again, looking for my phone.

It sits on the counter, right where I left it, and I hesitate again, realizing I'm probably about to do something really stupid. My fingers fly through the lock, and then I find the contact in my recent call log, right under my mother's name from earlier in the week, and this morning, and I open a new message.

_R: I'll do the song._

And then I hit send, my heart flying a million miles a second. I can't look at it. I get too nervous with these kinds of things, especially when I'm texting you know who who I shouldn't even be talking to. God, I'm an idiot. He probably doesn't care. Doesn't want me on it anymore. Maybe they already recorded, who knows.

Sighing, I give up my hopeless rant and turn off my phone, knowing I have the next three days off of work. I can't worry about this now. I just want to sleep. So I lock the door, and then I'm on my way to the bathroom...on my way to forget about everything else for the night.


	9. Chapter 9

I had a decent weekend in, getting things organized and working on a few songs I've had stored in my head for a while. The night with Charlie was nothing new, so I brushed it from my mind quickly. On the other hand, no word came from Devin or my mother for a couple days, and I can't say I'm not suspicious. Only good thing? Or bad...I cant really decide. Whatever. Downey hasn't tried to catch me mid sleep again. Nor has he responded to my text, though...man do I feel stupid.

It's a pretty boring Monday at work, despite the high volume of papers that wind up on my desk. The holidays always suck...so many people with billing issues because they can't afford the gifts they charge. At least we have business!

Then, halfway through the day I go out, picking up lunch and eating in the car for some peace and quiet. It's necessary sometimes... It's a nice hour, and despite the cold weather for the early days of December, I don't mind being outside. But then I have to wander back to my seat inside once the afternoon hits, and I'm cursing the feel of the wet snow on my feet through my boots. I guess I do miss the summer, but no one was expecting snow today. It's been almost a month since we left California, and I already need a trip back.

There's a ton of commotion when I enter the space around where I sit, causing me to look up from my phone and close the calendar I was working on. There's people around my desk, in a circle, eyes locked on where I usually sit. This can't be good.

"Uh, guys?" I ask when I wander up, pushing my way through the crowd. "Am I being fired, or...what-"

I stop on my tracks, blinking to process what I'm seeing. Mr Downey, in the flesh, leaning back in my chair and answering questions from my office mates. He's finishing a story about filming Iron Man, one I actually know well from the behind the scenes content on the box set, but I won't bring that up now. No, now, I'm panicking, not sure how long it will take my brain to adjust to this. God, don't say something stupid...

I raise an eyebrow when he sits up and turns to grin a me, apparently happy with himself for causing a scene.

"My chair," I point out, motioning towards the one his ass is still in.

"Hello to you too," he jokes, noting my grouchy mood. "Thought you'd be more excited to see me."

"I see your ego hasn't changed," I tease, noticing how quiet the room has become now that we've started talking.

I look around the crowd surrounding us and my eyes fall on May, who's got her hand on her chest as she swoons over him. I shake my head slightly, turning back to Downey as I shove him and the seat out of the way so I can put my phone in its drawer.

"Aggressive," he comments. "I like that."

I feel my face heat up and clear my throat, standing tall and looking down at him. He's since cut his hair; it's no longer long and wavy, but short and spiked, like Tony Stark would have it. There's no goatee, though, but he still looks good. Thinner, even. More...built? Muscular? What's a good word for it?

"You can stare later," he comments and I drop my jaw, sucking in a breath.

"I'm not," I argue. "You just look different."

He nods. "Starting to film in the spring, so getting used to the look again."

"They're giving you another movie?" I joke, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," he answers, then quickly continues with, "hey, uh, nice Iron Man, by the way."

His tone yells sarcasm, getting me at my own game. He knows I'm excited about another film. I look where he's pointing and sure enough, my little Iron Man Funko pop sits on my shelf, staring down at us. By now my face is as red as the suit.

"Why are you here?" I ask, changing the subject.

He stands, crossing his arms. "You tell me," he smirks.

"I really wouldn't know your schedule," I answer, frowning...what is he getting at?

He sighs. "You said you're up for the record. So...we're going to New York."

"What?!" I nearly shout, and the people around give a small step inward, listening intently. "New York? When?"

"Uh..." he mutters, looking at the clock on the corner of my desk. "About seven hours from now."

I stare at him, not sure how to respond. Yes, I had texted him telling him I've changed my mind and want to record with he and Sting, but that was only a few days ago, and he never responded.

"I can't," I answer finally, remembering I'm at work. "I have to request these days off at least two weeks in advance, and-"

"Already taken care of," he answers, grinning as he fishes his keys from his pocket. "You got a long weekend and Devin's coming to get your cat tonight."

"Oh that sly little shit..." I mutter, realizing she wasn't talking to me because she simply can't keep a secret, so it was best to avoid all contact.

"So let's get a move on here, we gotta get packing, and...oh, I hope you have something nice, because you're coming to the premiere with me, too."

I grip the edge of my desk for support, tilting my head as if that would help better understand him. He's enjoying my confusion too much.

"I'm what?" I manage. "I don't...no, I don't wear dresses, so...wait, you talked to Devin?!"

"Okay," he listens, ignoring the part about my friend. "I'll have my stylist pull some stuff then. We'll pick one there. Now can we uh wrap this up here?"

He motions around, making me do another glance around before I swallow and nod, rolling my eyes at how Tony like he already is and he isn't even in character. I feel my co worker's eyes on me, strong, but try to ignore my embarrassment as I grab my stuff from the drawer and shut down my computer, and then I'm following him out.

"Nice chatting with you all," he grins, flashing a peace sign before dropping a pair of sunglasses over his eyes and heading toward the door.

"You're causing a scene..." I mumble, but again, he ignores me.

"So, you wanna lead, or..." he muses when we approach the black sports car in the lot outside, waiting by the front door.

"Do I wanna...huh?" I ask, memorized by the impressive car.

I stare in awe, watching him slip into the seat and roll down his window once he closes his door, leaning out to look at me through his glasses.

"I may have figured out where you work, but still clueless on where you live. So you gonna show me or do I have to guess?"

I clear my throat, all of a sudden more nervous than I should be. "Um...yeah, I can lead..."

"Good," he answers, and that's all.

I take a deep breath, silently calming my nerves as I wander over to my old car, a beat up Chevy sedan, which is nothing in comparison to his. Still, he follows it all the way back the half hour drive home, until he pulls into the small driveway behind me and shuts off the roaring engine.

"This is nice," he observes, and it almost sounds like he's internally judging as he shoves his hands in his pockets and sways his hips, walking up to the door with me.

I can't help but smile, though my heart is jumping at the sight of him in those shades at my door, something I've probably thought about much too often. Then, I push into the dark living room entrance and scoop up my cat, cradling her in my arms until Downey enters and closes the door behind him. Then, I plop her back on the ground and she immediately rubs against his pant leg.

 

"Cat lady?" he asks, patting her on the back.

"Just one. Aero."

"He's cute."

I push down the urge to reply with 'so are you' and turn on the light and set down my bag. Only then do I realize this was probably not the best idea...I never put much thought into it before, since it never really mattered, but there's no way I can hide-

"They weren't kidding," he muses, walking around with his hands in his pockets as he drinks in the walls lined with movie posters and memorabilia. "You really are a fan..."

I swallow nervously, crossing my arms across my chest uncomfortably. Of course, I forgot that above my television are several Marvel posters. A Stark Industries label lines the opposite wall above the couch. There's Star Wars and Harry Potter and lord knows what else decorating my hallways, and he definitely doesn't miss the stack of his movies I have settled on one side of the TV cabinet. Yeah, it seems like a lot, but it blends with everything else, including the fake Christmas tree in the corner, well, so no one I know really ever thinks twice about it.

"I'm so sorry..." I mumble, looking at the floor. "I would've taken them down if I knew you'd be coming over..."

"Take them down?" he repeats, chuckling at me. "Don't. It's cute." Then, he tilts his head and points my way. "You're not crazy, though, right?"

I roll my eyes and he grins.

"Kidding. You've had several chances to kidnap me if you wanted to so I think I'm safe."

I sigh, mortified, and remove my jacket as he wanders over to the Iron Man 2 poster I have hanging on the wall near my original Star Wars art. He inspects it, his gaze never leaving the frame.

"You got this signed?" he asks after a moment and I groan internally.

"Uh, yeah...by-"

"Everyone but me," he comments, now turning his attention back on me. "At least the main cast, right? Jon's here...Gwyneth, Sam, Clark..."

"I...well, you didn't sign," I admit quietly, feeling a blush creep in.

He furrows his eyebrows, obviously confused. "You mean at a premiere, or...?"

I nod.

"Flew across the country. Waited four days on the street. You walked right by," I tell him with a straight face.

Then, I turn to grab a bag to pack and head to my bedroom, stuffing in a few outfits inside. Aero follows me, never leaving my side, as usual, and I leave her with the bag as I go for the bathroom to grab my toiletries and makeup. I glance at the counter top, the bottle of Vicodin still sitting in the corner where I left it the night before. I haven't touched it in a few days...so maybe I should leave it. I can leave it, right?

When I return, he's fussing with the poster again, placing it on the hanger until it's back to straight on the wall. 

"Well, now you have mine," he says with a smile.

I raise an eyebrow and look at the frame, noting the new addition in silver ink over the arc reactor.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, turning his body towards me. "I didn't know-"

"How could you?" I answer quickly. "You guys never really stop to think about what we have to do to meet you. It's crazy, really.."

He frowns, then next thing I know, there's the sound of a door opening, and light pours in from the entry way. The cat jumps down from her spot on the window sill that she took up and scurries to her cat tree in my bedroom, I assume. And then there's that familiar figure, and my spirit plummets when I realize how horrifically awkward this situation is going to be.

"Hey babe, I was just passing by and I saw the car in the driveway and-"

And his voice cuts off as soon as the door closes behind him.

I feel my body move subconsciously, wandering over to greet Charlie. Robert's eyes are burning into my back and I can feel them as hot as the sun, but I try to brush it off as Charlie's lips graze my cheek and his arm wraps around my waist. It's almost like things haven't changed...almost.

"I stopped to say hello, but it looks like you have company," he states dryly, that familiar coolness returning to his voice.

"Yeah..." I answer plainly.

"I thought you had work? It's only one in the afternoon."

I fake a smile and look down at my feet instead of meeting his icy blue eyes. "I did. I left early."

"Why?"

And it's such a simple question, but of course, it's heavy with disgust and judgement and it's obvious he isn't happy. Any ounce of polite kindness he held when he first arrived was instantly wiped away at the sight of Robert...who, by the way, has been standing, leaning against the door frame to my bedroom, with his arms crossed over his chest in silence.

"Well," I breathe, not knowing how this is going to go at all. "Well, I'm going away for the rest of the week."

He huffs out some form of sarcastic laughter and looks down at me. "You're kidding, right?"

I swallow uncomfortably. "No... I uh...I think I'm gonna record that song I told you about...and the studio's in New York."

I'm met with cold eyes when I finally do look up and then his jaw cracks and his shoulders tense. 

"I thought we discussed this," he whispers, thankfully trying not to let Downey overhear this.

I inhale, trying to steady myself as panic sets in. "It's just for a few days. I'll be back next week."

"With him?" he snarls, and glances up at Robert, who finally moves.

He pushes himself into a standing position, eyes narrowed, and holds out a hand in greeting. "I don't think we've met...I'm-"

"I know who you are," Charlie snaps, ignoring his hand. "Thanks for your interest, but Rachel isn't interested in your Hollywood lights."

"Not a fan, I take it," Downey sniffs, taking his hand back. "That's okay. Not a lot are. Kinda fucked that one up. But, on the contrary, she did express interest on her own."

"She must not have been thinking straight," he answers for me. "Rachel, honey, what did I tell you about those pills?"

I flush, knowing Downey can't know about that. He can't be around it, I don't want him to be around it, for his sake. But he isn't judging...at least not yet. He isn't staring at me, even glancing at me. He doesn't flinch at the words, and it gives me strength to speak up for myself.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie...the best I can do for right now. "Can we not do this right now?"

"But we decided-" he hisses, but I finally bring up the courage to dismiss him.

"No, you decided," I snap back. "I'm going with him."

"Rachel," he snarls, grabbing hold of my arm when I decide to push away from him.

I must squint in pain when he squeezes too tight, because then I'm dealing with Downey stepping towards the situation, his dark eyes staring daggers at Charlie.

"She already told you no, back off," Robert warns, and at this moment, I can't even see the celebrity in him...just the person I've been chatting with standing up for me.

"Back off, old man," Charlie growls back, tossing my arm aside.

I grab at it and rub the section that his grip dug into, slowly working the kink out of my wrist, but the conversation ahead of me isn't getting any cooler, and Downey's in Charlie's personal space now, pushing me back out of the way.

"I don't know where you came from, but you do not treat a woman like that," I hear Robert scold, and Charlie narrows his eyes.

"What, gonna hit me instead?"

I flinch, tugging at Robert's shoulder, but he shrugs it off.

"I'm not afraid to go back to jail."

And then my panic attack sets in. I don't want him in the middle of this. I don't want him near this, he got through so much, and I don't even know the half of it....but I can't imagine he'd honestly want to break that good standing for something as stupid as this. Something as stupid as me.

"Right, I forgot," Charlie says smugly, smirking. "You two are perfect for each other. You can overdose together."

Robert's chest heaves up as he sucks in a breath, and I pull at him again.

"Stop, please," I beg softly, and then, after a moment, his shoulders roll back and he obliges.

"You really gonna choose him over me?" Charlie asks, his gaze back on me.

I swallow, uncomfortable again, and frown. I don't know what to say. There isn't really a choice between them. It's mostly just like a choice between if I'm going or not, if I'm going to tell Charlie to fuck off for once. Robert doesn't see me like he does, and he never will, so his insane perspective of this is getting out of hand.

"Fine," he finally decides, slamming a fist down on the counter. "You know what, I'm fucking done with this. If you want to whore around, be my guest!"

I wince, looking down, and catch Robert's hands in my side glance, which are currently balled into fists near his pockets.

"Don't you fucking dare to come crawling back when you realize how stupid this dream of yours is. You're never going to go anywhere. It's just his little game to get you on his side."

And then he's storming off, the door slamming behind him as he leaves. I jump at the noise, which alerts Robert finally, and he turns to me, hands out to reach for my shoulders, but I flinch away.

"Easy," his smooth voice sounds, calm as ever.

His hands never touch me, though I want their warmth from Malibu more than anything. I think he's afraid to touch me, to be honest, while I'm just staring at the ground again. My breathing is focused as I recover, and then I blink my eyes closed for a prolonged second before lifting my head again.

"I'm fine," I try to reassure, but his eyes tell me he doesn't buy it...his very, very pretty eyes.

"We can take a second, if you want," he offers. "Or if you don't want to go at all, it's okay, I get it."

I shake my head, not even giving it a second thought. "No, I want to go."

He swallows, nodding, then stuffs his hands in his pockets again as he rolls back on his heels. There's silence for a second, then he eventually breaks it, sighing first.

"I get why you didn't want to tell me, but...Rachel, no one should ever treat you like that," he starts.

"It's okay," I answer quickly, not wanting to talk about it right now. 

And then I think, realizing exactly what Charlie said. He finally broke. He's finally gone. It isn't me telling him it, it isn't him pretending like I never said anything. This is his decision, and finally I have the ball in my court, no matter how badly he wants to see me again after he cools off.

"It's okay," I repeat, and apparently I sound as relieved as I feel, because his lips tug up in a soft smile, happy I'm encouraging myself to do what I want. "Just...I forgot my toothbrush, give me a second," I say next, then make my way away from the kitchen and back to the bathroom.

But it's a lie. Instead, I grab for the bottle of pills I wound up leaving there earlier. I can already feel the heartache, the longing...I'm weak. I know I'll go crawling back if I don't have something...and despite him leaking the info to Downey, we haven't brought it up since Charlie left, so I don't feel as guilty as I should as I shove it into my back pocket and return.

"Okay," I smile, picking up Aero who has returned at my feet before kissing his soft gray head. "Be safe, handsome boy," I purr. "I love you and I'll be back soon. Aunt Devin's gonna come hang out with you."

He nudges my head, and then I set him down, tossing a few cat treats his direction from the jar on the counter, and then pick up the bag I put together, looking toward Robert again.

"What now?" I ask, and he smirks and opens the front door, ushering me out.

"Now it's time to have a little fun," he grins. "Get in, I'll drive."

I glance at the car and gulp internally. I've never been in something this fancy before, not even the car he had in Malibu. And yet it's thrilling. But...is it the car? Or is it the freedom that comes with the getaway car?


	10. Chapter 10

Is the car ride weird as hell? Yes. But not for the reasons you'd think. More so because we in fact didn't discuss the Charlie event. Because it felt like one of my car rides on the way to start a trip with Devin. The kind where you actually relax, listen to music, and are just genuinely comfortable. Only...toss two singers in a car, and you should expect nothing less than a jam session.

I guess I use it as a distraction from Robert's driving, because he's definitely Tony behind the wheel. I should've expected as much, with his interest in cars. So when he reaches the highway after a few minutes of calm silence, I hit the button on the dash to turn on the music, and he cocks an eyebrow, his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, and looks my way. Of course, I can feel the nerves instantly, that familiar smirk setting my insides on fire...

"What?" I manage, trying to shoot the unspoken sass back.

He turns his gaze back to the road. "Nothing."

Deciding not to push, I flip through the stations until I land on one I know pretty well: an old ABBA song from the 70s. And I immediately start belting it out when I turn toward the window, evenly matching the pitch. I've sang it a couple times in private, but never preformed this one live.

"Cause you know I've got, so much that I wanna do, when I dream I'm alone with you... It's magic."

Instantly, I feel Downey's gaze back on me and I can't face him; I'm still a little shy singing in front of him. Others, fine. Him? God, I'm surprised I'm confident enough to talk around him...or even to him, I don't know how that one's happening either. 

"You want me to leave it there, afraid of a love affair, but I think you know, that I can't let go..."

And then I'm caught off guard when he chimes in on the chorus, cutting me off.

"If you change your mind, I'm the first in line. Honey I'm still free, take a chance on me..." he sings, his deeper voice completely different than the female voices on the track.

I can't help but burst into laughter, turning back to him with an open smile, and he's grinning back, his eyes flickering between me and the road. And for somehow, we don't need to talk about it; we silently seem to agree to harmonize, because the next part comes together.

"If you need me, let me know, gonna be around. If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down..."

Then, he throws his head back while we're stopped at a light, screaming out the next part, which causes me to miss the line and hold my stomach, laughing...more so because the guy next to us in the other lane is staring, confused as fuck.

"If you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown... Honey I'm still free, take a chance on me!"

And then I nudge him, catching his attention as I grin, pointing to the window behind him. Downey glances to the side, smirking and pulling down his sunglasses before waving, and the woman driving grabs her husband in a fierce grasp, her mouth agape before she makes it mouth out "I love you!" to Robert.

Thankfully, before she can steal any photos, the light turns green and he continues on his way. I sit back in my seat, recovering.

"ABBA?" he asks after a second. "Really?"

"Hey, you knew it just as well!" I toss back and he takes a breath, obviously caught red handed.

I wind up focusing on the radio for longer than I realized, because soon I notice we're pulling into the airport terminal...dangerously close to the runways. I glance out the window and of course, as Stark may do, he's pulling into the building for the private flights, shutting off the car and popping the trunk to retrieve my bags.

I step out in awe, looking at the private jet before us, until Downey's coming behind me, placing his hand in the small of my back and guiding me toward the let down stairs.

"Wait, my stuff-" I try, but he shakes his head.

"Jimmy's got it, no worries." He extends his free hand, motioning toward the man at his side. "This is Jim, he's my buddy, security, man behind the camera, uh...whatever you wanna call it."

"I know," I say but it squeaks out almost inaudible and he lifts an eyebrow, amused. "Hey..."

He sounds off with a hand in the air before Robert continues.

"Right. Well, if you need anything and I'm not around while we're in the city, just ask him, okay?"

I nod, then part from him when he goes to climb the stairs into the jet, me following slowly behind. I can't even begin to take the fact that I'm on a private jet in. I mean, Erin and Jon have one, but I've never used it. And this...this is insane.

"So uh, take a seat and buckle in and I think we're set to depart in fifteen," Robert tells me, taking off his jacket and wandering to the back of the jet, behind a curtain, where I assume he either tosses it or hangs it up. "Bathroom's up there," he points up front when he returns, "and uh, bed's back there if you wanna-"

"I'm good," I hurriedly answer, blushing a little as I take the seat at the table and set my phone on it before removing my own jacket.

"-take a nap," he finishes, forehead wrinkling as he looks at me with confusion. "What did you think I was gonna say?"

"Uh, I...nothing," I stammer, beyond embarrassed. "Long day, just a little out of it, sorry."

He nods curtly, taking the seat across from me and kicking his feet up on the foot stool across the aisle. "Well, if you're feeling tired, it's there."

We get the ETA from the pilot, then the door's being sealed and Jimmy's taking a seat at the front, playing on his phone. Robert's mimicking him, his own in both hands as he lays back across the bench. He's typing away, probably answering emails or something, so I decide to join the club and pick my own up, going for the messages. It's not hard to type one up to Devin, who I am very much looking forward to talking to once I can get a moment by myself.

_R: Way to leave me out of the loop! How the hell did you even keep this secret?!_

She responds a little too quickly. 

_D: TELL ME EVERYTHING_

I can't help but laugh, typing my response. 

_R: Uh, I'm on a freaking private jet. Taking off soon...call you later?_

_D: you better_

I play around on Facebook for a little bit and check in that I'm going to New York from Pittsburgh, and then once we set for takeoff, I turn it to airplane mode and set it down.

I don't mind flying. I actually enjoy it. So, I rest my chin on my hand and look outside the window, shooting Downey a glance every now and then and admiring his childish posture. We move through the clouds, slowly climbing, and then when we hit a steady altitude some minutes later, I hear him shift and set down his phone. When I look back over, he's pulling off his sunglasses finally, folding them and setting them on the table by his cell.

"So we'll hit the hotel tonight, and I set up a meeting with my stylist for you tomorrow... Friday's press day for me, so feel free to use that as a studio day. Premiere's Saturday, and I'll do my part for the track on Sunday. We'll get you back Sunday night."

"Okay," I whisper back, trying to process all of that. 

He must notice I'm confused as all hell because he laughs lightly and leans forward, interlacing his fingers as he brings his hands together. His eyes are direct on me and that blush is creeping back in. God, how I love those chocolate eyes...

"You're nervous," he observes easily.

No shit. Of course I'm fucking nervous, Robert Downey Jr is basically kidnapping me, having me sing with him, and attend a freaking movie premiere with him. Yeah, absolutely nothing to worry about there!

"Relax," he adds when I don't speak.

"Easy for you to say," I give back, smiling faintly.

He presses his lips together, eyes narrowing, and it's only now I notice his five o'clock shadow coming in...this man can definitely grow a beard, that's for sure.

"Come on, you got this," he tries to reassure. "I mean look, you made the decision to come. That's a step in the right direction, right?"

I nod, glancing down. "I hope so..."

I can nearly hear him frown, so I don't need to look back at him. I'm wringing my hands in and out with the nerves, thinking about what might happen when I return to Charlie.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," I finally muster up, the one to break the tension.

He sighs loudly. "No one should ever try to control you like that, Rachel," he states sincerely, obviously following my train of thought, and that makes me look back up.

"Yeah," I agree, sort of, "but you...I mean you..."

"Me," he agrees blankly.

"Yes."

"I'm not following."

I groan internally, but force myself to finally have the conversation I've been dreading.

"You...shouldn't have to put up with my problems. I'm just...I'm not worth it."

He snorts in defiance, shaking his head. "You don't give yourself enough credit."

"Then tell me," I beg, "why me? Out of all the fans you've heard cover songs or say they love Iron Man...why me?"

I can hear my heart pounding as I wait for his response. And of course, he takes his sweet time studying me before answering.

"Because you're talented. You have yet to actually fan girl on me. You're kind, you're stronger than you think you are, not bad on the eyes...and I just don't like being told no," he answers swiftly, with a touch of that cockiness coming back to his persona. 

"Not bad on the eyes?" I repeat, not amused, and he laughs, sitting back again and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Beautiful, stunning, exquisite... I was trying to keep it tame, here."

I stare at him, jaw hanging slack. Did he really just...?

"I didn't really enjoy the idea of coming to that wedding, as I've told you, but something just clicked and I just feel co-"

"Comfortable?" I interrupt, guessing.

He nods, analyzing my face for a moment as I turn a deeper shade of red and apologize.

He tries to comfort me. "It's weird, isn't it?"

I blink, then try to shrug it off. "I guess friendships work in weird ways...even if it's a world famous actor making up a bullshit excuse to kidnap a fan," I try to joke.

But then he chuckles again, watching me. "You don't take compliments well, do you?" he teases, and then, "I'm just saying...you're the whole package, and I think you'd market yourself well. You'd have a career in no time."

My heart falls a little at this, but it was stupid of me to think he was saying it because he thought so.

"Right," I mumble, leaning forward and resting my head in my hands as I recover from the second wave of embarrassment.

"Which leads me to another point," I hear, making my eyes flash up. "Why do you think you deserve that?"

I swallow, uncomfortable. Visions of Charlie are flashing through my mind, but they aren't as bad as they usually are. The worst is the scene earlier today. I think of how to answer, then flash a look over my shoulder at Jimmy, who's got headphones in and is staring at his phone.

"Don't worry about him," Robert tells me kindly. "Neither of us will repeat anything."

I nod slightly, pressing m lips together for a second. "I...he never used to do that."

"What, hurt you, yell at you?" he asks, listing off things he witnessed. "Give you a fake drug problem to scare off friends?"

My eyes flicker away and then his face falls, but he isn't mad. Nope, when I look back, he's genuinely concerned, and his brow is pressed together again in thought.

"How long?"

I inhale, trying not to panic. "Few years."

He nods, thinking, so I continue. "How'd you guess?"

"Old habits die hard."

"...You're not-"

"Oh, no. No, not at all. But I have a sense for it, I guess."

"It's not bad, I just...can't sleep without them sometimes. And I promise it's not going to come around you, I sw-"

"What are you on?"

"Vicodin," I admit lowly. "But usually...just when he has an episode. Not every night."

"Understandable," he agrees, and I hate it. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna tell or ask you for one or whatever. I think your situation is a little different than mine was. But if you need help, or...I don't know the extent of the addiction, but I can get you into a nice place if you need it, and-"

"He doesn't think he's hurting me," I tell him, my voice now very small compared to before. "Even when he sees the marks... I needed something for the pain and they prescribed it the first few times. So he thinks there's no reason for it, but I swear I just use it to-"

"Rachel, you don't need to explain to me," he insists, but I interrupt with my hand up.

"It's okay," I confirm. "It's not a big story, but you asked, so...I answered."

"You know..." he tells me, and it sounds honest, so I keep my eyes on him, taking in how rested his face looks. "When I was in jail, things couldn't have gotten much lower than they were. I had the top bunk, I kind of lost that celebrity protection...I went swimming in the kitchen slop one day..."

"I heard..." I answer politely, though I know he rarely if ever talks about this, so I'm not really sure why he's bringing it up.

"Point is, just because you're at rock bottom doesn't mean you have to stay there," he presents, and I lift my lips in a slight smile, appreciating the words. "And there's no better person to talk to about addictions than me...whether its drugs or the abuse you think you deserve. You said no, you made a decision to change things...you have an entire life ahead of you still. Don't beat yourself up anymore over him. Do what makes you happy...and from what I've seen, that's singing."

I nod again, my smile sticking around. And then he's up, running a hand through his hair and stretching.

"You want anything? Water? Pillows?"

I shake my head, declining. "I'm okay for right now, but I appreciate it."

He smiles quickly and then motions toward the curtain again. "I've been going since five this morning, so I'm gonna rest my eyes for a little bit. See ya when we land?"

"Sounds good," I confirm, and when he disappears, I'm reaching for my phone, hoping to find the plane's WiFi.

It's a short while longer and a possibility that I may have rested my eyes for a brief moment before the bounce of the plane hitting the runway on landing alerts me that we've arrived. Once we taxi over to the tarmac and the stairs drop, Downey reemerges, hair not caught up in a beanie and the glasses back on his face. He cracks his shoulders, then shakes out his hands, like it's going to give him sudden energy. Then, he's motioning ahead of him for me to get moving, 

I do my best to climb down the stairs, grabbing Jimmy's hand which is extended when he notices my struggle. I'm not used to this kind of stuff, I guess. And then we're all sliding into a car, which is waiting on the tarmac, driver ready to take us to wherever the hell we're staying. It's only half after six after all the driving around and whatnot this morning, but I'm already exhausted...and hungry, and that's made well clear when my stomach grumbles in the silent cabin once the car gets moving.

Robert lifts his head from his hand, which he was resting it on while he looked out the window when we departed. "Hungry?"

I shyly nod, yet again embarrassed, as I place a hand over my midsection in shame. "I haven't eaten since...well, before you showed up at work."

He nods, then leans forward and knocks on the car's divider, which drops. "Hey, uh, drive through?" he asks. "Whatever's close."

The driver nods through the rear view mirror and I can't help but watch Robert, who is doing his best to avoid eye contact for some weird reason.

"You're gonna go through the drive through?" I ask finally, amused. "In this?"

"What, afraid someone might see us?" he asks, and I sigh and sit back in my seat, quieted for now.

And a few minutes later, just like he requested, we're pulling up to a drive through window at a Chick-Fil-A, and my mouth is instantly watering. Between my diet and budget, I haven't had food that lied outside of greens and protein shakes in forever.

"You cool with this?" Robert asks, and I nod eagerly.

"Usual," Jimmy mutters, toying with his phone again boredly, and I can't help myself; I'm smiling, happy to have found my people.

"Cool, uh, two threes and...what do you want, Rach?" he asks, pausing his report to the driver.

"Um...the biggest box of nuggets you can order," I grin, and he smirks, repeating it to the front and telling the driver to toss on whatever he wants, as well.

The car goes through the process of windows, and then hands a card from his wallet up and to the driver, sitting back as we wait patiently for the food. This leaves me scurrying for my own, hoping I have cash to pay him back.

"How much do I owe you?" I ask, shuffling through the pockets in it.

He shakes his head, using his hand to pat down my wallet, asking me silently to put it away.

"On me," he answers, and his tone begs me not to argue, so I don't.

Thankfully, we get our food rather quickly, and then we're on the way to the hotel in the city. Downey passes Jimmy his, then takes his own and leaves me the bag with the box of nuggets. I open it, devouring the first one, and sigh in content, almost emitting a rather ridiculous moan at how delicious it actually is. I get attention from both of them, Downey almost snorting in laughter and a mouthful of food, so I'm stuck blushing and biting my lip.

"You okay there?" he laughs, and I shift in my seat, popping in another.

"I haven't quite had the budget to eat anything but rabbit food," I inform him. "This is heaven."

"Darling, this isn't heaven, trust me. But I could show you if you'd like," he teases with a wink, and I struggle not to choke on my food.

"W-What?" I manage.

His hand wanders to my knee, squeezing lightly as he giggles, then he releases me and goes back to his food. "Always so serious... You're gonna be fun to fuck with, aren't you?" he asks.

My dumb ass mind is wandering again at the term 'fuck with', but I play it off eventually, after focusing on finishing my food on the way.

When we finally do make it to the hotel, the car pulls up to a fancy hotel with a sign notating it's the Langham, and then we're met at the door with security lining the entry way. The driver gets out and rounds the car to open the door, and I'm in awe as I exit after Jimmy, Downey behind me. Then our bags are being handled by hotel staff and I'm left wide eyed, looking around nervously until Downey's hand is back in the small of my back. There's a group of fans outside somewhere near, and I can hear their screams for him when they notice him, and he simply holds up a peace sign and keeps going. Then, he's leading me inside and straight to the elevator. 

The tendee with the bags leads us down the hall once we reach an upper floor, and then he opens my room and sets my stuff down, followed by Downey's and Jimmy's, handing us our cards appropriately.

"Is there anything else you need right now, sir?" he asks, mainly to Robert, who shakes his head and hands him some cash in thank you; I don't know how much, but it's enough to make him tank Robert several times before heading back downstairs.

"Got plans for tomorrow?" Downey asks his friend, who nods.

"Buddy's in town the same time, checking out an exhibit and probably gabbing some cigars tomorrow night. Wanna join?"

"I'm gonna take Rach by the studio," he declines. "Maybe after, if we're back early enough?"

"Sure thing, keep me posted. I'll send you the schedule for Friday once I get it finalized," Jimmy agrees, and then they're sharing some kind of weird hand shake hug thing I always see guys doing before he retires to his room.

"You're welcome to hang out, if you want," Downey offers when he turns back to me, making my stomach turn.

I can't possibly agree right now; this is all too much. The rooms are too fancy, he's spending way too much money on me... I know I'm beat, though, and could use a good shower and a decent night's sleep, so even though it's early, I smile warmly and offer a rain check.

Hr smirks, nodding in understanding, and I'm suddenly caught by that twist of his lips and the small amount of scruff that's appeared today along his jawline. He pulls his glasses off, hooking them on his shirt collar, and then I'm left breathless, not sure what to say or if I even know English anymore.

"That's fine," he answers, gesturing toward my room next. "Uh, feel free to call downstairs if you need anything. And I have the stylist arranged for tomorrow morning, so don't be freaked out if a woman with a ton of dresses shows up."

I nod, lips tugging up again. "Right. You know I'm not scared of dresses, right? I just said I don't wear them often."

"So...you're allergic," he teases, smiling himself.

I glance at my feet, chuckling lightly, before warmly gazing back up at him. That feeling he mentioned before...that weird comfortableness that makes him seem so familiar...is back and I nearly forget we haven't really hung out in person much like this. It doesn't matter though, because as comfortable as I may be, I'm never going to get over that gorgeous structure that I'm forced to look at every time we talk. It's real, now, and not the internet, not a photo...and God am I still not convinced I'm awake.

"I guess we'll find out tomorrow," I finally answer, noting how long I've been analyzing his statement.

Next thing I know, Robert's grabbing my left hand, raising it to his lips, and the stubble along his chin is scratching my skin. It's warm and soft where he kisses, and I forget to breathe as I watch his eyes flicker up to me, followed by the familiar smirk when he lets me go. All I can think about now are those lips, other places...anywhere besides my hand. And maybe how this is definitely not innocent friendliness, right? No, this is flirting. I think. But he has made sure to stay purely professional after every possible comment thus far, so why this now? Maybe I'm over thinking...

"Goodnight, miss Thomas," he repeats, same as on the phone a few weeks back, and I swallow nervously.

In barely a whisper, I manage a response before turning to enter my room. "Goodnight, Mr Downey."


	11. Chapter 11

When I wake up to sunlight flickering down over my bed, I'm extremely confused for a second; at home, I have blackout curtains, and I love them...especially when I'm not feeling up to life and I have a chance to sleep past sunrise on the weekends...

Anyway, once I come to, I remember where I am, and although I tried to take in the elegant, upscale room I was given, I still haven't accepted or processed it correctly. The silk sheets are too fancy, the white marble in the bathroom too shiny... I don't belong here.

Glancing at my phone, I realize it's already half past nine, longer than I've slept in a while, and just before Devin's due for her shift at work; she works nights, most of the time. So I dial and lay back down, waiting impatiently for her to answer as I try to stop the speeding of my heart once my mind settles back down on my neighbor; Downey.

"Well hello there, Mrs Downey," Devin greets, chipper as ever, and I can hear the radio in the car in the background.

"Yeah, that'll never happen," I say with a roll of my eyes.

"You okay?" she chuckles. "You sound dead."

"I think I might be..." I murmur, staring at the delicate patterns on the ceiling. "You should see this place, Dev. It's insane."

"This whole thing is insane," she answers sincerely. "Like, please tell me what the fuck is happening. Why the hell did your celebrity love call me. How the hell did he even get my number? This goes further than you, you know!"

I laugh out loud at this, agreeing silently. "Oh God..." I groan, hand over my face. "I know. I don't know what to do. Dev, he thinks we're friends, or something, I don't know..."

"Aren't you at this point?"

I sigh. "I mean, maybe? I think so. But...he's him. And I don't know how to get past that because I never ever thought I'd even get to meet him and now I'm on a trip with him?!"

"Is it awkward?"

"Surprisingly, no," I admit, puzzling her into silence. "I mean, the part of him being Robert Downey Jr, yes. But...I don't know...it's no more awkward than any other person I've met. ...He said he's comfortable with me."

She squeals and I pull the phone away for a second, now fully awake from the noise she just made, and then catch a glimpse of the clock.

"Shit..." I curse, putting the receiver back to my ear.

"What?"

"I gotta go. I have to pick out a dress for-"

"A dress?!" she shouts excitedly; obviously he didn't fill her in on that part. "I need this story but I just got to the office...ugh, the struggles!"

"I'll explain later...I gotta get a shower before this person shows up."

She doesn't even give me a chance to say goodbye. "Wait, he has someone bringing you clothes?!"

"I know...it's so weird. ...Just, say hi to Aero for me when you get home and call me later and we'll talk?"

She agrees and I force myself out of the bed once I get myself off my phone, and then run a hot shower in the bathroom. The head is one of those crazy contraptions that showers down water, instead of propelling it from the wall, and the way it falls onto the tile floor mesmerizes me as I watch the glass steam up from the outside.

I'm quick, I guess, but not quick enough, because after I've finished and wrapped my hair up and slipped some underwear and a bra on, there's a knock at my door which leaves me scrambling around.

"Um...just a second!" I shout, deciding to wrap the towel around me instead of finding clothes for some unknown reason.

But thank the heavens it's only a woman at the door, so this isn't too weird.

"Hi..." I mumble awkwardly, clutching the towel around me. "I'm sorry, I just got out of the shower, and...I didn't know to expect anyone, or-"

"Miss Thomas?" she asks, and I nod. "I'm Katie, I pulled Mr Downey's suit for this weekend...he called me in asking for a dress, and mentioned your room."

"Right..." I agree, sighing internally; I hate dresses and I hate trying things on. "Uh, come in, I'll put some clothes on..."

She wheels in a cart she has behind her, a rack full of dresses, both long and short and of all sorts of colors, and I swallow nervously as she passes. Then, I shut the door and make for the bathroom, but she shakes her head and curls her finger to request me by her side.

"Don't bother, just gonna have to take em off to try these on."

"Okay..." I answer slowly, wandering over.

She smiles, trying to be kind, apparently sensing how awkward this is for me. "He took a stab at your size and I think he's right."

Great. So he's guessing how fat I am? Perfect.

"Don't worry, you look great, even in the towel," she laughs, then turns to the cart, flipping between a few. "So are you thinking long or short?"

"Uh..." I manage, sounding like an idiot. "I honestly have no clue. I haven't really been invited to one of these things before, so..."

She thinks for a second, then settles on a couple short ones. "I'd go short. Since it isn't LA. It's cold, but something with sleeves should do."

I agree silently, accepting the couple she shoves at me, then shakes my head as she asks if I need help trying them on. Taking them to the bathroom, I analyze each one, wishing Devin was here to make the decision for me, like usual. I'm panicking, just a little bit...not knowing what he's wearing or if I should even match or what in the world the press is going to get on about when they see him bring some mystery girl along with him...or if they remember me from the song...God, there's so much to worry about.

Finally, I force myself to drop the towel and step into one, a simple black number that hugs me and stops just above my knees, with long sleeves and a delicate v neck. It's nice. Plain, but nice. Something I would wear. And it would surely go with anything he chooses. So, I take a breath, then step out into the room where Katie's waiting.

"Hmmm..." she ponders, hands on her hips as she looks me over. "Fits better than I expected."

"Thanks?" I answer, though it comes out as a question and she laughs.

"What do you think?"

I glance down, noticing I'm not totally uncomfortable for once, and nod my head slightly. "I think it's as basic and safe as I could go, but that's perfect for me."

"If we put your hair up and add something shiny at the neckline...maybe the wrist, too... Did you try the others?"

"Not yet."

"Let's see those...unless you have something else in mind?"

I shake my head. "I have zero fashion sense, so I'm gonna let you tell me what to wear and I'll do it."

She smirks, probably loving how easy I am compared to her other clients. So, I humor her and disappear back into the bathroom to try on the other two, one a blue, sparkly number that I'm not a fan of, and thankfully, neither is she, and the other a white, flowy thing...strapless and tight at the top, and soft at the bottom. That one isn't an immediate no, and she has me turn fully around to see how it sits.

But then there's a short knock on the door and the sound of a key swiping, and for a second I'm really concerned about who the hell has my other key, until...

"Good morning, ladies," I hear and then clutch at my top, uncomfortable in the dress I'd never usually wear. "Wow! Is that...is that what you're wearing?"

And there's Downey, lifting his head from his phone before pocketing it and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watching.

"I think we're going with something else," Katie tells him, answering for me when she sees how flustered I am...great, so if she can tell, surely Robert can, too.

"Ah, a mystery," he comments, returning the gleam in Katie's eye with his own. "I'm sure whatever you've picked is going to be perfect, so I guess I'll have to wait and see."

I smile awkwardly, not sure what to say, so he stands tall again, tossing on a beanie over his hair, going perfectly with the heavy leather jacket he's tossed on over his top and jeans.

"Right, so I thought we'd stop by the studio we have reserved so you know where you're going while I'm doing movie stuff, sound good?"

I nod, silently agreeing. I can't find words.

"Car's downstairs. Meet me?" he asks, and when I mumble an "okay" back, he's quickly thanking Katie and giving her a kiss on the cheek before disappearing.

I feel myself redden, realizing how stupid I am for maybe thinking he was being a bit flirtatious the night before...or any time, really. That's just how he is...it isn't me. Or maybe they have a fling, no clue at this point. She's tall, blond...actually his age... So I push it to the back of my mind and head back to the bathroom with a change of clothes. It doesn't take long for me to change out of the white dress, then I hand them all back to Katie who flags the black one and promises to have it ready to go on Monday with Robert's attire for the night.

After she lets herself out, I toss my phone in my coat pocket before slipping it on, feeling a bit silly to be in the puffy white thing that I swear resembles a marshmallow...at home, it's okay, but here? In New York? With Downey? Embarrassing.

No more embarrassing than sliding into the car next to him when I finally do make it outside; thank God the press isn't around, but I'm sure they'll get hints once we're out and more open to the public. He takes his eyes off his phone and smiles as the car starts moving, interest on me.

"So, we'll head out east, towards the park. I'll send the car back for you tomorrow while I'm doing press and it'll take you right there, so don't worry about remembering directions," he tells me, and I nod, listening. "We'll pop in real quick so you know where to go, but you only have it from three to four tomorrow so just make sure you're on time."

"Okay," I agree quietly, trying to steady my nervous breathing.

"Cool," he agrees, turning his head to look out the window. "So you pick a dress?"

"I think so."

"Good."

God, this is awkward. What do we event talk about? It's just us. No Jimmy, no security.

Finally, after a couple stop lights mid city, he shifts back toward me.

"Listen, this doesn't have to be weird," he says quickly. "Is it weird?"

"Sort of weird," I agree, letting out a huge sigh. "Not...this...but like, you..."

"So don't think of me as me," he offers, and only gets a confused look from me in return. "Think of me as just Robert. Not...the actor, or Tony, or..." He presses his lips together, thinking. "I'm just like you. I like music. And cats. And I hate wearing dresses too."

And that makes me laugh, so he keeps going.

"But don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy taking them off."

I bite my lip, closing my eyes in amusement as I shake my head, which gets his interest building.

"You have a crush on me, don't you?" he guesses, and I can hear the smile in his tone.

"No," I lie, then, I relax my shoulders and turn my whole body toward him in the seat, giving in; he's right...I just gotta wrap my head around it. "Fine. I'll try. But it's still a little weird."

"Just...talk to me like you're talking to Devin," he suggests.

"Okay," I agree easily. "So you should've seen the photos of RDJ at the beach that spilled last night..." I comment, trying to make a joke, but he only drops his jaw and raises an eyebrow.

"Is that how girls talk?! God, it's so-"

"I'm sorry, you said to talk like you're Devin!" I groan.

"-tame."

And then I laugh again, realizing he wasn't upset about it, but rather amused that's all I said. And he's grinning, too, chewing on the gum he's since popped in his mouth, and that just makes my heart flutter more.

"See, there ya go," he finally adds. "You're opening up a little. I like it."

I can't help but smile, feeling that sense of comfort again that he mentioned the night before. Yeah, he's always going to come with the fame and that kinda stuff, but at least when we're alone it's either a comfortable silence or we can figure out how to talk. This is a step in the right direction.

"So, I don't know if you had any cameras or reporters or anything on you at the hotel, but if you see em, just ignore em," he tells me when the car finally pulls up to the location; just a normal building on the outside in what looks like a decent neighborhood of the city.

I slide out his side and then he's rushing me in, probably to stay on the down low, but then we're inside and I look around in awe, feeling more at home than I thought I would. It has a hippy vibe to it...something out of the 70s, but what else should I expect from him...or Sting?

"So Gordon's gonna meet you here," Downey tells me as he smiles at a few people carrying guitars into the recording room down the hall. "That's where you'll go," he says, pointing after them. "And then at the other end, you'll be working with the producers."

"I did this once, for a demo tape at home," I fill him in, sort of knowing the drill. "Not quite the same, but I think I'll manage."

"And you haven't sent it out anywhere?" he questions, hands in his coat pockets as he turns his whole body toward me in curiosity.

"I did once. Got turned down."

He narrows his eyes, tilting his head a little in silent question. But instead of pressing, he decides to change the subject, checking his watch.

"So, what now? It's only one."

"Uh..." I mumble, trying to think up something..anything I've wanted to do in New York, but my mind's blank.

"Ever been to Central Park at Christmas?" he asks, aware I'm at a loss. "Just a few blocks down, we could walk."

"They'll pick you out of that crowd like it's nothing," I warn, noting the photos are bound to be taken if we go out in public space like that.

He shrugs. "Part of my life. If you don't care, I don't care."

I sigh, nodding, and then we're back outside. It's cold, the wind blowing slightly under the cloudy sky, and I guess I shiver a little as we cross the street onto a new block, the bare trees from the park in sight just ahead, because he points to a small stand on the side of the sidewalk.

"Coffee?"

I don't usually drink it, but why not? It's a mini vacation, I don't need to be asleep tonight...

"Sure." Then I freeze after searching my pockets. "Shit, I forgot my wallet at the hotel."

"I told you not to worry about it," he smirks, digging his out and ordering for us.

"That was last night..." I mumble, but then he's too busy being nice to the vendor, who is apparently a fan, so I sigh and wait, once again feeling guilty for not paying.

They shake hands and the man turns to fill our cups, and then Downey's attention is back on me.

"You excited?" he asks and hands the vendor some cash after taking a quick photo with him when he returns.

I accept the coffee he hands me, glad for something warm, and sigh. "Sort of. It's a little nerve wracking..."

He nods, listening, as we walk slowly down the street, keeping to the side and hoping to stay inconspicuous in the crowd. I can feel eyes on us and I'm very conscious of how silly I look in my heavy coat, nothing compared to the amazing style the rest of the city is wearing.

"It's okay to be scared," he teases lightly and I whip him a glare.

"I'm not scared!" I insist, looking at my feet, then sigh. "I don't want to fail."

"What?" he laughs, his eyes wrinkling when his smile broadens, confused. "You? Stop."

"What does that mean?" I ask with a raised eyebrow and glance at him, taking a sip from my cup. "You barely know me!"

"I know enough. Especially after today. You've come out of that shell of yours a little, Miss Thomas."

I blush, looking down again and trying to avoid the cameras I notice across the street.

"I just don't want to ruin my only shot at this. And...I mean I guess I'm a little scared...of that," I add, nodding toward the paparazzi.

He doesn't even turn to look; he must assume. "It's not too bad once you get used to it. Kinda just forget they're there."

I think for a moment, then answer. "And of...this."

"What?"

"Possibly becoming a big name. Not that I expect to. But if I did...having people be so nervous around me," I spit out, probably a little too quickly.

He smirks again, eyes back on me. "Are you still nervous around me?"

I blush, fighting to find confidence, and thankfully, I'm at least able to look him in the eye when I answer.

"No," I say, though it's almost a whisper.

"I beg to differ, Miss Thomas," he follows up. "Though I don't know why."

 _Because you're hot as hell and I've thought about kissing you at least two hundred times today,_ I run through my head, and force myself to keep quiet.

"I keep telling you I'm normal..ish. I'm human, anyway," he chuckles. "We're chatting now. Hanging out. I'm fine, and you seem..."

"Not nervous, like I said," I argue. "I'm talking with you, aren't I?"

"You're blushing," he points out. "Which leads me to believe you really do have a crush on me."

"I just happen to like your movies," I protest, but I do feel my face heating up again.

"You like all of my characters. Which are all played by me. Coincidence, Thomas? I don't think so," he teases.

"It's cold out," I mumble, looking for another excuse, but I know he knows he won, so I try to change the topic. "You know, I have a name."

"Thomas," he grins, agreeing.

I sigh. "A first name."

Cocking an eyebrow, he nods in affirmation, sipping at his cup next. "I'll call you Rachel when you call me Robert."

I meet his eyes again and narrow them, waiting for a sign of weakness from him that doesn't come. So I cave.

"Fine."

"So," he muses, "Rachel... What makes you tick?"

"What?" I laugh, amused by his choice of words.

"When you're not singing or...making out with a poster of Tony Stark," he teases and I shove him playfully; a sign I'm forgetting the star in him. "What do you do?"

"I mean...you've seen most of it," I admit. "I don't get a lot of time away from work. And lately it's been mostly...Charlie," I grimace. "Aero...sometimes I go for a jog or do yoga."

"Which we still have to do," he reminds me. "Unless the other option is still there," he tries.

But I shove him again, mouth open in shock at his assertiveness.

"Okay, that's starting to hurt!" he whines, and I can't help but grin when he flashes his perfect white teeth at me.

It's only now when I notice his stubble coming in a little more than when we talked last night. He isn't shaving, but I don't mind it at all. I kinda like him with his facial hair, anyway. Sighing and taking my eyes off of him before he can comment on it, I decide to open up a little more.

"If I had the time and the money...I'd travel. I'd love to see the world."

"It's not as glamorous as you'd think," he frowns, and I shake it off.

"You don't get to enjoy it though, do you? Like actually take days to explore. Find new places, see the culture?"

"Okay, you got me there," he confirms. "Not usually, anyway. It's been nonstop work for a while...but I guess I deserve that. Gotta work my way back up."

I give him a softer look, stopping as we hit a street light and wait for the cross walk to turn. We're sill undetected, aside from a few cameras from afar, which is amazing to me, but I'll take it.

"This is gonna sound like it's coming from fan girl me, but just as a normal person...a friend...you are on top. You have so much going for you, and who gives a shit what happened in the past?" I tell him sincerely, holding onto my cup to calm my pounding heart. "I think you're someone to look up to, and that's all that matters, isn't it? Being a good role model. Doing what you can to make yourself happy, too."

His eyes aren't moving from me as I speak, so I start to feel my stomach fill with butterflies as they stare warmly into mine. I finally drop my gaze, shaking my head.

"Sorry..."

"No," he quickly tosses in. "Don't be."

His voice sends chills down me as I listen to how steady and calm it is. How serious he is, but affectionate, almost. 

"What makes you happy?" I ask, a sort of variation of his question.

But he doesn't get to answer, because I notice a flurry hit my hand, and look up at the sky instead, watching as a small shower of snow starts, making my grin like a child. I've always loved snow. Snow is magical. And yeah, Lorelai Gilmore definitely stole that from me, but whatever. Good things have always happened when it snows...and I live for the stillness and silence on a night around the holidays...it's peaceful.

"It's snowing," I laugh, closing my eyes and holding out my arms to embrace it like a little kid.

And then I bring myself to chill out, not wanting to draw additional attention to him, but when I let my eyes rest on his again, his lips are tugged up, and not in his usual smirk...but a very soft smile, something new to me. And despite the flakes falling down quietly on his nose, he hasn't looked at any of them.

"Snow," he speaks after a second and the smile drops slowly from my face.

"Yeah, I said that..."

"Snow," he repeats, "snow makes me happy."

I furrow my brow, trying to make sense. He isn't even looking at the snow, so what the hell is he talking about? But before I can ask, I'm shoved from behind as someone walks into me, sending the remains of my coffee flying and coating the front of my now brown coat.

"Sorry!" they turn to say, but they're jogging and they aren't watching where they're going.

I sigh, brushing it off figuratively, but then realize no one's looking at me anyway in the crowd that's now crossing the street, so it doesn't matter.

"Here," he says, and then he pulls me aside, out of the crowd, to shrug out of his leather jacket.

I frown, trying to protest, but he's quickly trading me for my emptied coffee cup and insisting I remove my coat so I'm not walking around soaking wet in the cold. I hate myself for it, but I know I'm shivering again, so I do as told, clutching onto the white mess in my hands after I sink into the soft leather material. It's big...but not too bad.

"We can find a cleaner's," he offers. "Or if you wanna buy a new coat. ...Or, I was gonna stop and grab some things at the house anyway, so we could toss it in the wash and try to salvage it?"

I blink, trying to comprehend everything that just happened, my mind still stuck on what the fuck he was bullshitting me with 'snow'. "House?"

He smirks for real this time, tossing the cups in a nearby garbage can. "Yeah. Got a place in the Hamptons. Too far for this, but nice in the summer when I'm hanging around. ...I'll call the car, if you wanna go."

I think for a second, but then realize why the hell not? "Well, you cleared my schedule..." I remind him, "so I guess you're still with me, Downey."

"Robert," he corrects, and I smirk, myself.

"Robert."


	12. Chapter 12

"This...this is where you live?!"

I can't help but stare in disbelief as the car pulls up to the circular drive in front of a rather interesting home in the Hamptons. To be honest, most of the houses we passed on our way up were huge and interesting, in their own, but this is...this is something else. Literally. It's shaped like a windmill, and although that's a little strange, I can completely see it for him. He's quirky, it makes sense. But there's also something quite calming about it...it almost reminds me of being on a farm, or just...somewhere with a lot of land. Which, apparently, he has as well, looking past the building for a moment.

"Like it?" he asks, and I nod quickly.

"I love it. It's so..homey."

"Just wait till you get inside," he smirks, waiting for me to exit the car after him.

He sends the driver away for now; we'll call when we decide to go back into the city for the night. And then I follow him up the stairs and into the house, silently watching his hips for my own amusement as he steps up to punch a key code into the door, similar to how my aunt's home in Malibu is set up.

"Watch your step," he warns politely, though it isn't that bad, and then I'm gaping in shock at the interior when I make it inside, the front door closing behind me.

It isn't quite what I expected, but that's fine by me. Instead of something upscale and fancy and...to be honest, rich, it's very much like something out of a model home...it's very livable, not cold or expressionless like some of the modern designs I've seen. The living space near the kitchen looks comfortable...a couple neutral toned couches and big windows that display the big yard, and I'm immediately drawn to it. I fold my arms across my chest, just now realizing I'm still in his leather coat, and wander up to the window, gazing at the big yard outside.

"Pool's out that way," he calls from the kitchen, which is lined with bright colors and a nice kitchen table with a wraparound wooden bench. "Tennis court, too. You play?"

I turn back to him, watching as he downs a glass of water he's gotten himself from the fridge, and shake my head.

"Never was a tennis fan. Or golf. Just can't get hyped about it."

"I'll teach you," he decides, less of an offer and more of a decision.

Then, he sets down his glass on the island counter top and holds my white coat in the air.

"Want to get this rinsed off?" he asks.

I smile slightly, nodding. "Yeah. If it's not a problem..."

"Never," he answers kindly, waving over his head as he disappears down a hallway. "Laundry room's this way."

So I follow him, past what seems to be a few spare bedrooms and a bathroom, which he points out, and then we're in a smaller space, but still big enough to house two whole washer and dryer dual units and a folding table. I raise an eyebrow, inspecting, and then watch as he tosses it into one of the washers. I turn to the shelf above the folding table, grabbing a pod of detergent from a bag, but something else catches my eye.

"Downey uses Downy fabric softener?" I ask out loud without realizing, then burst out laughing as I hold up the bottle towards him. "Are you serious?"

He holds my gaze evenly without even a smirk. "Very serious."

"Is it an ego thing? Because I can totally see that being an ego thing," I tease."

"I need to know I can trust em."

And with that, he grabs the bottle, pouring a little into the lid, and then stares, hesitant.

"What?" I ask, waiting. Then, I realize. "Oh my God, you've never done a load of laundry in your life, have you?"

"I have, just not...lately," he tries to defend, but I know it's a lie. "Usually Emily does it when I'm here a while..."

"You have a maid?!" I gasp, actually surprised.

"Sort of...sometimes..." he groans, obviously uncomfortable.

I sigh, grabbing the lid and tossing it in the correct compartment, then point them out to him. "This one's detergent. Liquid, anyway. This one's softener. And this one, heaven forbid you need it, is bleach."

"I know where the bleach goes," he sings happily, proud of himself. "I have white sheets."

And then he hushes himself, knowing I really don't want to find out about what on Earth goes on in his bedroom. And for the first time, Downey's - sorry, Robert's - blushing. I smirk, mostly to myself, and close the washer's door, hitting the quick cycle in hopes of it being enough to get the stain out. If not...well, guess I didn't care for the coat much anyway...I'll just be cold the next few days.

"So, speaking of...let me show you around the rest of the house," he recovers, quickly excusing himself from the laundry room, so I follow.

Downey leads me down the hallway, motioning toward the spare rooms we missed on the way, and then we cross toward the other side of the house. And then it hits me, I'm in his house. I'm literally walking through Robert Downey Jr's actual home. Just casually, no big deal... Only it is a big deal and I'm sort of fangirling, especially when I see the awards and plaques he has collected over the years hung on the walls of his office when we step in; things I've watched him win on award shows, articles I've collected, myself... God, this is so fucking weird.

"So this is where Jimmy and I do most of our non exciting work..." he mumbles, opening the door to let me past so I can peek in.

The desk is covered with papers, all pertaining to his scripts and contracts, I assume, but at least they seem somewhat organized. My eyes scan the walls, seeing photos of younger Robert, gorgeous even then.

"You don't look any different," I comment, looking over one in particular with his hair slicked back.

"Really?" he asks with a laugh. "I don't think I look as stoned now, but..."

I sigh, turning toward him with a frown, and ignore the comment. "You have the same eyes. Same dorky laugh lines and smile."

"Dorky?" he asks, brow furrowing in concern. "Uh, I'd probably go with sexy, handsome, alluring..."

I shake my head with a small chuckle and walk back past him out into the hall, leaving him confused as all hell. He follows, and when I glance back, he's still pouting.

"You look...more grown up," I decide, trying to give him a compliment without being too forward. "More well rounded."

"Sexier," he agrees, grinning, and I roll my eyes before letting myself into another room; apparently the master bedroom.

"Shit, sorry," I mumble, stepping back after peeking in and realizing he might not want me in here; it's his personal space, after all.

But he's quick to catch me, not far behind, and his hand settles in the small of my back, laying over his coat. "No, go ahead."

I blush the contact and closeness, but brush it off before he can use it to his advantage and wander into the open room. It's huge...bigger than the others, and it has warm tones that don't look at all like a bachelor pad, despite his earlier comment about his bed sheets. And, like the other rooms, there's tall, glass windows leading to a patio of sorts on the far side, which is now covered in a small coating of snow since the flurries started.

My breath hitches when he lets his hand fall from my back, but he's still close enough that I can smell his cologne, and I'm afraid to move and bump into him again. He must take notice, because he's smirking again when I see him finally push past me and head toward one of his closets, and from just the outside, I can tell it's massive. Lord, do I want to look...I bet one's full of just his shoe collection alone, but I don't press that far. It's already awkward enough being in his bedroom...his own space.

My attention thankfully travels to the window again, stepping closer as I wait for his return. There's so much space...and so many trees. And I really wish it wasn't the dead of winter so I could actually see the real beauty of the secluded lot.

"Your house does have windows, right?" he asks, confusion heavy on his voice when he returns to the room.

I turn and blink, watching as he tugs a hoodie on over his shirt; the long sleeved number he has on underneath pulls up, revealing his abs just the slightest and I'm pretty sure he notices my staring when he finally tugs the shirt and the hoodie down. But damn, I can't help but peek...

"Rach?" he asks.

"Huh?" is all I can muster up, my focus now shifting to the fact that he just called me 'Rach'...no 'Miss Thomas' or even 'Rachel'... "Oh...right, windows..."

"You okay?" he asks with a raised eyebrow, obviously worried about my behavior.

"Yeah..uh, I have windows. Just no...yard," I mumbled, scratching my head in embarrassment. "So, no alpacas?"

He snorts in laughter, leading me out of the room so I follow. "Not here. Cali. Moved em over when the house settled."

"Damn..." I curse under my breath, trying to make a joke.

"You wanna meet em?"

"Depends, do they bite?" I ask, but I mean...come on, do they?

He fake gasps, opening a door to a staircase, and ushers me up. "Rude! But...sometimes..." Then, he mumbles out the rest while we walk up the spiral stairs. "Do they bite...do you bite?"

I nearly choke on this question, but I'm feeling comfortable, so I snap my own joke back. "Sometimes."

I swear to God he almost trips up the stairs, and I watch him noticeably crack his shoulder when I make it to the top. Then his eyes are on me and though he's trying to move past my comment, they're dark and intense and I panic for a second...did I fuck up?

But no, he's just changing the subject, but kindly. "And this...this, is home to all of the things the sets let me keep over the years," he announces.

Sure enough, the walls and shelves are lined with Iron Man figures and posters and props, and several hats and posters and books from Sherlock. A few of his other roles, as well, but mostly the recent stuff. Which reminds me...

"You know, I thought you said once this stuff just kind of 'disappears'," I taunt, inspecting an arc reactor in pure awe.

But then my phone rings and I'm quickly tugging it out of the pocket of the leather coat I'm still in for some odd reason, and reluctantly know I should take it.

"It's Devin," I tell him, waving it in the air. "Is it cool if I take this downstairs?"

He nods. "Just gonna grab some papers from the office I was looking for and and I'll meet you in the kitchen?"

I agree, then hop down the staircase again, careful not to trip, and answer the phone as he splits to go down the hall again.

"Hey," I say, trying to sound cheerful. "Mid day break?"

"Lunch," she confirms; it's after three, but I guess that's what happens when you work nights.

My stomach rumbles and I realize I haven't eaten all day...and neither has he, I don't think. So, I change the subject to ignore it for right now...maybe I'll get room service later.

"How's Aero?"

"Fine!" she answers, then rushes into her next part. "So how's it going?!"

I redden at her question; it's in a sing song tone, and I know she's expecting something juicy.

"I'm at his house," I tell her simply, trying to brush it off, but it fails. "You should see this place, it's huge!"

"Wait, I thought you're at a hotel?!" she questions. "You're at his house?!"

"Just for a few minutes. He needed to grab some stuff and we didn't have anything scheduled today, so..." I tell her, wandering around the island in the kitchen and letting my hand trail over the cool, clean granite.

"Jesus, so did he even buy you dinner first?!" she gasps, reading my tone completely wrong.

"Devin!" I hiss under my breath, hoping he can't hear me from here.

"Oh my God, he did!"

"It's three in the afternoon! ...But yeah, last night actually..." I admit sheepishly, the grin sounding on my voice. "And coffee, today..."

"Rachel Thomas!" she squeals loudly, and he has to hear that, even from down the hall. "Did you spend the night with him and not tell me?!"

"No!" I immediately snap back. "God, no. I slept in my own bed. In my own hotel room. I wasn't lying."

She hums, then, "he likes you."

"He does not!" I groan, letting myself collapse over the island and lay my head over the cool stone; it's now I remember the jacket I'm still wearing, too.

"You want him to," she teases with a laugh and I hold my breath, trying to ignore it. "Admit it, you love him even more now."

Yes. One hundred percent yes. Especially cause it finally feels like we're over that awkward hump that I had to jump...the one that kept me either speechless or overly defensive, depending on my mood. Aside from his gorgeous eyes and that bright, contagious smile, he's already helped me so much more than anyone else...but I guess that's my problem for not letting more people in.

"Rachellll," she presses, amused with herself for getting me to admit it.

"Fine!" I mumble into the granite counter top. "Fine, I like him, okay? Just...don't say anything, I don't want it to be weird..."

"So...nothing's happened? Really?"

"Nothing's happened," I confirm. "But...if you wanna talk about this, can we talk later? When I'm not like...in his kitchen?"

"I'll text you?"

"Yeah," I agree.

Then I'm saying bye and pushing myself upright again, only to be met with a very, very amused Downey leaning against the wall near the entry door. Fucking hell.

"So, which part should we discuss first?" he muses, eyes deadlocked with mine as I clutch onto my phone as though it'll disappear.

"How much did you hear?" I manage, and I feel that familiar panic return...this time for a different reason than usual, but still just as unwelcomed.

"Enough," he chuckles lightly. "Why'd you lie to me?"

I swallow nervously. "I didn't."

"You said you don't have a crush on me," he teases, opening the door and motioning for me to proceed to exit to the car that's now waiting for us again.

"I don't..." I mumble awkwardly. "It's a guy at work," I lie, trying to cover up so this isn't more weird.

And then I swear to you his face falls, just in the slightest, and I nearly do a double take trying to determine if I'm just seeing things. Why would he care? But to avoid the weirdness, I clear my throat and approach, keeping my shoulders high and confident.

"We're leaving? What about my coat?" I ask.

He shrugs, closing the door behind us once we move outside. "I'll send it back to you. Keep that one for now."

I blush, thinking about the fact that he's letting me hold onto his leather jacket. It's baggy, but it smells like him, and I've been enjoying that all afternoon.

"So what do you think about dinner?" he asks, and I smile politely, still sensing the tension between us since the phone call.

"I think it's something you should eat daily," I toss back, waiting for him to look at me.

He doesn't; he's focused on the bare trees passing from outside the window. "Figured we could meet up with Jimmy and his buddy. If you don't want to, I can drop you at the hotel first," he offers.

I hesitate, but sit back in my seat and try not to let it bother me. Maybe I'm quick to judge...because I'm not sure I like this variation of Robert.

"Up to you," I sigh.

Apparently that gets to him, because he stops acting like a preppy school girl with a grudge and finally turns toward me. "So guy at work, huh?"

"Yup," I respond, popping the p.

"Huh, didn't see anyone your age around when I was there," he comments right away. "And before Charlie le-"

He cuts himself off, knowing that's definitely not the button to push with me.

I narrow my eyes, watching his reactions. "He wasn't in that day."

But he doesn't hear me. "Unless you have a thing for older guys."

I blink, not about to lose this war. He wanted me to open up? I'm definitely opening up...with a mix of that defensiveness I was giving him a few weeks before.

"You're 'older guys'," I state, and he sucks in a breath. And then it hits me. "Oh my God, are you jealous?!"

"I'm not old," he argues, pouting a little, which makes me laugh lightly in response.

"Okay, old man," I grin, poking his shoulder from across the car. "Whatever you say."

But he grabs my wrist when I go to bring my hand back, making me jump slightly. My mind flashes briefly back to...well, the obvious. Back to Charlie, now that he's put him back in my mind. It's the first time since we left that he's even crossed my mind. And then I feel my breathing shallow and my heart races as I stare at the seat in front of me, the seat back housing the driver who's carrying us back into the city. Not home, not PA, not Charlie... Not the same grip he left on me the day before.

I guess Robert notices, because he's rubbing his thumb over my wrist where his hand lays now, over the slight bruising I've hidden under the jacket until right this second.

He sighs before cracking his jaw and then changes his mind. "You know what, how about you and I get dinner? Just us?"

"What?" I ask, tone now as soft as his is in response.

My eyes meet his again, finally clearing the thoughts from my head when he lets my hand go...but not without a concerned gaze lingering over my skin.

"Yeah, Jim's always with me, I can skip."

"You're asking me to dinner?" I nearly choke out, the last of Charlie now completely gone from my mind, taken over by the butterflies in my stomach.

"As friends," he offers. "We can go back to the hotel and grab your wallet if you're worried about paying, but I really don't want you to."

I stare at him a moment too long, then nod slightly, accepting. "Okay...Just...no where too expensive, I'm kinda broke."

"Let me pay," he protests, but I shake my head. "I can afford a little. Just no fancy lobster or hundred dollar liquor."

"Well, you're safe there," he agrees, sitting back and stuffing his hands in his hoodie's pockets. "Don't drink much these days, remember?"

I flush, hating myself for making the joke. I know better; we already talked about it when he asked what I was taking. Just shoot me now...before this gets any worse...

"I break out in handcuffs," he grins, knowing how to use the situation to his advantage...and thank God, because that tension earlier is gone.


	13. Chapter 13

The rest of the trip is far from boring. Especially the next two days. Two dinners. One tame, one...not so tame. So let's start with the tame one.

The car ride's pretty boring after that. Robert made a point to call Jimmy and let him know our plans...just in case he was waiting for him to join up. I made a point to focus on my phone, texting my mom to say hello. I have no idea if she even knows I'm not in the same state this weekend, but I don't want to press and find out. Hopefully, Robert didn't track her down too. Then I text Devin, letting her know I had to lie to Robert.

R: he heard everything, kill me now...

And then I stare out the window for the rest of the ride, looking at the Christmas lights in people's windows once we enter the city. It's stopped snowing, but everything's lightly coated, and the sun's just starting to sink, being early evening. Man, do I hate that about winter.

"You ever see the city during the holidays?" he asks suddenly, and I blush when I realize he's been watching me gaze at the display outside in wonder.

"No," I answer lightly, almost a whisper. "Only ever been out here in the summer. It's stunning."

"We'll go to Rockefeller," he decides smoothly, and I finally turn my head from the streets to him.

"That's the most touristy spot," I comment, and he shrugs.

"You're a tourist, technically."

"And you're an A-list celebrity. Not the best idea, right?"

He smirks, amused, and I try to read him as the car pulls to a stop somewhere just outside of Times Square where the fancy restaurants are.

"This isn't the hotel," I say, narrowing my eyes at him. "I told you I'm paying."

"You're cute," he teases, hand on my knee for just a small second before he slides out of his door. 

"Wait, what?!" I follow, no choice but to exit the car behind him.

He simply places his hand on the small of my back and ushers me into the building ahead of us. "You say that like I'd take you seriously."

And I don't know why, but my tempers start to flare like they did in Malibu. After everything today, I am not putting up with his off and on again flirting.

"It's not a date," I hiss, walking with confidence in front of him...which quickly vanishes when we step inside and I realize I'm probably extremely under dressed.

He picks up on it, because the next thing he tells me, with an amused tone, is "have you seen the shit I've paraded around in? Nothing's unusual for me."

I huff in response. "I try not to look like trash when I go to nice restaurants."

But that comes out way too rude and I definitely didn't meant that about him, so my jaw drops in a silent apology. Thankfully, he only laughs and leans in, whispering into my ear.

"It's okay, you don't have to pretend you don't find me attractive."

"I-" I start, but he approaches the greeter and requests a table; she doesn't even seem phased to see him there.

I sigh and follow him through to a back corner booth, sliding into the seat and debating shrugging out of the leather jacket or keeping it on. I'm still a little chilly, but looking around, everyone's got nice dress shirts and slacks on, or a form fitting a little higher than casual dress on, and I'm...in jeans and a long sleeved shirt. So is Robert, but...he has the money and name to do that kinda stuff. I don't.

Not like I have a say, either, because he immediately orders for us; ordering wine and some water and the full meals, as well. Chicken something or other. Which is fine by me; I try to eat healthy most of the time, and chicken is protein, so...

"I thought I said no wine," I finally say once the waitress wanders off.

"Things change," he shrugs again, which frustrates me.

"I thought you don't drink."

"You think too much."

I blink, staring at him as he leans back against the back of the booth. There's already eyes on us. People probably thinking we're on a date. Are we? No. He said as friends. But he also said I could pay my share. 

"Rachel," he muses, as he drapes an arm across the back of the seat. "I'm only going to go over this one more time. Please stop trying to fight me. I have money, you don't. I'm not being rude or trying to make you feel bad, it's just how it is. So, I'm going to pay, and you're going to relax, because I am treating my friend to a nice dinner on a night off, nothing more."

I inhale, holding my breath to try to process that the way he intends it. He isn't being rude, just as he said, but his tone...

"Fine," I decide.

"Good girl," he replies with another smirk and laughs when I instantly tense up again. "Good Lord, you're a spitfire. Do me a favor and drink the wine, I think you need it."

"I think I understand why you're still single," I mutter, but do exactly that when the waitress returns and pours my glass.

I watch as Robert shakes his head and waves her off, sipping at a glass of water instead.

"Why's that?" he asks, clearly entertained.

"You're an ass, to start," I answer, mostly for my enjoyment.

"Sometimes," he replies, waiting for more.

Good God, does he have a response for everything?

"You're extremely cocky."

"For effect."

"You're a flirt, even when you don't mean to be, which can be extremely misleading."

He leans forward finally, his eyes narrowing as they flicker across my face. "Trust me, Miss Thomas-"

"Rachel," I correct, smirking back as I catch him at his own game."

He chuckles. "Rachel... If I wanted to be a flirt, you'd know."

And I don't have a comeback for that. Nope, instead, my stomach's doing flips and I can feel butterflies forming, and I push the feeling down before it gets out of hand. God, why did I admit to Devin that I like him? Now everything he does is going to drive me insane.

Thank God our food is dropped off next, and I stuff my face as soon as we're left alone again to avoid continuing. And to my surprise, he softens up.

"I'm single because no one wants to put up with the spotlight and it's apparently extremely hard to trust me," he answers truthfully. "Eight years sober, yet it's like I just got out of jail..."

I feel bad about calling him an ass now, that's for sure. He looks at his plate and picks at it with a fork, trying not to look sad, but even though he's an actor, I can still tell.

"Hey," I interject, kicking him lightly under the table. "Screw em. I know you've kicked it. Your fans know you kicked it. You're doing better than you ever were."

"Yeah," he mumbles, taking a bite of his food.

I sigh, mirroring him, then decide to make conversation. "You don't like to talk about it much, do you?"

"Not really, no."

"I'm...just curious," I answer shyly, feeling stupid. "You just brought it up a couple times and..."

"I trust you," he says sincerely, and catches my eye when I look up at him with confusion. "I don't know why," he informs me, reading my mind, "I just do. You're down to Earth. You get me."

It hurts, a little, but I guess I understand. "I don't think Vicodin is quite the same as-"

"No, no, that's not what I meant. I know you're not a junkie."

"Then I don't follow."

He presses his lips together, debating how to say whatever he wants to say, but winds up shaking his head again.

"What?" I ask delicately. "You can say whatever, I won't be offended."

He lifts an eyebrow when I say that, and it's adorable. So, I grab for my wine again, not wanting him to know what he's doing to me while he's opening up.

"I think you and I have the same kind of delusion that we deserve something we don't. So, we turn to stupid shit to punish ourselves. For me, it's the jail time, the drugs. For you, it's-"

"I'm not going back to him," I blurt out, not wanting to hear his name.

He nods, taking another bite. "Did you bring them?"

I sigh, not wanting to answer, but he's being open with me, so... "Yes."

"Have you taken any?"

I shake my head, actually feeling a bit proud that I can say no. That makes his lips curve up a little, and then he reaches for my hand when I go to grab my drink, placing his over the back of mind. I can feel the blush creeping in, my heart stopping at the electricity between the contact.

"Let me help you," he begs quietly, and I quickly pull my hand from his simply out of fear of photos being shared of this, though the warm contact of skin on skin made me feel more of a connection to someone than I have in a long while. "If he's really gone...I can detox you."

"I'm not addicted," I quickly answer, guilt flooding through me because I know I am; not badly, but enough.

"You don't need them, Rachel," he insists.

"So, what, send me off to prison? Make me go to rehab?" I snap, then feel bad instantly.

"No. Just let me be your distraction."

"Why?" I ask, still at a loss for why Robert Downey Jr feels the need to be part of my life.

He blinks calmly. "Because. We're friends. And you're currently stuck with me for three more days. And I don't want to see them pick you apart once you're in the spotlight. And don't make me go over the reasons why I'm helping you get there again, please."

I watch as he sits back in defeat and finishes off his plate, doing the same for my own as I think it over. I'm not like he was. I only take one or two. But do I feel like I need them? Yes. And that's not okay. To be honest, I'm surprised I haven't taken any more recently.

"Okay," I breathe, setting down my silverware on the empty dish. "I'll tell you if I feel like taking one. But no word of this to anyone. Please..."

"Of course," he smiles.

And that's pretty much it. I wish it was more than just more addiction talk, but it wasn't. Shortly after we finished our meals, Robert got a call from Jimmy asking for his help getting an intoxicated buddy back home. Sure, they could just use a cab, but apparently it was one of his buddies who shouldn't have been drinking and hasn't in a few months...and sadly, Robert knows how to handle those things as an extra pair of hands. So, he called me a cab and paid the driver in advance, well over extra, sending me on my way back to the hotel.

I checked my phone when I got back to my room, but nothing from Devin or my mother. So, I take an easy and quite night in and utilize the shower again. Sure, I took one this morning, but I just needed to warm up. By the time I settled in bed, it was nearly eight, so I spent a few hours reading the book I brought with me, then go for Instagram, putting up a photo of the hotel room and hashtagging almost everything New York as possible. I've gained a few followers since the photos of Robert and I from Malibu leaked, and it's definitely noticeable when things start getting liked as soon as I post the picture. There's speculation, I'm sure, since he's known to be in the city for the premiere, but no comments on it yet.

So, the rest of the night is a wash and an early night, ending in myself falling asleep shortly after putting up the picture. Should we move on to the first more eventful night? Yeah, let's do that.

First, the day.

I woke up late, and realizing I slept most of the morning away, quickly got dressed and checked my phone.

Three messages.

One from Devin, with quite a few photos that leaked of the two of us yesterday outside of Central Park.

D: uh, doesn't look too upset LOOK AT HOW ADORABLE YOU TWO ARE jfc i need details NOW

One from my mom.

L: Weekend off? We could go to dinner Sunday.

And one from Robert himself.

R: 3pm. Don't be late!

I roll my eyes at the last text; of course I won't be late. I hope. I stupidly didn't set an alarm, but that's still like three hours away, so I decide to go for lunch in the area, wandering the streets until I find a small cafe where I can sit on the sidewalk and watch the traffic go by. I'm a little familiar with the area, but it's still awkward being on my own, so I don't go too far.

And then my phone rings, displaying that familiar photo again.

"Yes?" I ask, smirking at my way of picking up.

"Cast dinner tonight, you in?"

Okay...so we're skipping the greetings. He sounds out of breath, anyway; they must be running him between press stops.

"I'm not cast," I answer snidely.

"Yeah, I realize that," he huffs back; okay, he's not in the mood, I guess. "Do you want to come or not? Jimmy's coming, a few buddies outside of the shoot. If not, that's fine. I'm not gonna be back till late, though."

"Yeah, sure," I go on a whim, trying not to panic about having to meet so many other Hollywood actors without notice.

"Tavern, down the street and two block to the left."

"Uh, yeah, okay, I'll find it."

"See you at seven," he answers, and then he the calls ends with a click.

By then, it's time to meet the car back at the hotel, so I sigh and pay my bill, then make my way back down the street. By the time we make it to the studio, I've nearly forgotten my nerves, but they set right back in when I gaze all around awkwardly upon entering the room I was in just a day before. And then I nearly run into Sting as he's texting and rushing toward the door, bumping into my shoulder in the process.

"Oh, Rachel, there you are!" he announces, seemingly relieved once he realized I wasn't bailing.

"Am I late?" I ask, checking my phone. "Robert said three..."

"No, no, you're perfectly on time," he assures me with his British accent. "I just have to run; I'm scheduled for another meeting a tad too early."

"Oh, of course," I smile, not really sure what to say about that.

"Danny here will help you out today," he tells me, motioning toward a guy with glasses waiting at the split in the hallway. "Robert's got you in for an hour, so we won't have a lot of takes. Just do it the same as we played in Malibu, yeah?"

"Yeah," I agree. "Got it"

"Brilliant. I'll get your information from him, we'll send you a cut once it's mastered."

And I'll skip you the boring details. I really thought I'd have more time with the writer, himself, but I guess not. I fought the butterflies, hoping I didn't mess up. But honestly...I spent most of the time amazed that I actually forgot about recording long enough to only panic on how to handle hanging out with Robert. I guess it's a nice distraction, because things go smoothly...I think. Maybe I am cut out for this after all... Without Charlie or life at home interfering...I could really do this. And the best part...I had fun.

And once again, back in the car, making my way to the hotel to try and put on some makeup and look presentable for dinner. It's nearly five, and dinner's in two hours. You'd think I wouldn't panic about this, but I waste a good hour on the internet on my phone, getting sucked into a click hole. Don't we all? Honestly...I wanted to see what Robert was up to, and of course, the internet has all the photos and video from the press today. He looks good...dressed in a suit jacket and jeans, his hair neatly spiked, and the thick black frames I am a big fan of on. He's been wearing them a lot lately...maybe he realizes...

That finally pushes me out of my delusions and I force myself to get up and try to salvage something to wear from my bag of only a few options. Thankfully, I still have a black top with cut out shoulders and a dark wash jean I could go with. I know they aren't that fancy, but I have a feeling Robert will be changing into something more casual, judging by his last few outings which I saw photos of.

By the time I make it out the door and to the restaurant, it's about fifteen till seven. I think about dialing his number to ask what I should do, but decide against it and instead pull the nerve to go into the place myself.

"Sorry," the girl at the counter frowns when she sees me alone. "We're all booked for the night."

"I'm meeting a group here," I protest, but kindly.

"Do you know the name?"

"Uh...no," I admit. "Robert...Downey-"

She laughs in my face, and I sigh, realizing how freaking stupid that sounds. "Sorry, sweetie. We all love him, but I can't let fans in tonight."

"I'm not-"

"She's with us, it's cool," I hear, and a pat on my back follows.

I turn my head and see Robert, a couple guys, including Jude Law and Jimmy behind him, and a couple female extras. To be honest, I'm a little sad Rachel McAdam's character isn't a main part in this one, because I loved her in the first...

"Oh. Sorry, Mr Downey," the hostess whispers, looking down and gathering menus before carting the group through the restaurant.

Robert's hand never leaves my back, leaning down to talk over the bar chatter as we find our table. "How'd it go today?"

"Great, I think," I answer loudly, trying to fight the warmth creeping down my spine from his touch...at least he's in a better mood.

"You think?" he grins.

I nod, melting from his smile. "I think so. But I could be wrong..."

"I'm sure it's perfect," he answers, then pulls out a chair for me before finding his own.

Jimmy plants himself next to me, which is fine by me. And then as the rest sit, Robert's introducing me, and I'm trying to get all the names right.

"I'm sure you know Jude," he states, hand gestured across the table.

I nod and extend a hand in greeting, and slightly fan girl when he takes it and smiles a hello back. "And we have Jack, Jared, Paul...and the two chatter mouths down there are Kelly and Ger...but I'll have you say hello to them later."

I nod and smile in greeting, shy all of a sudden now that I'm sitting at a table full of famous actors and actresses. Though...is it odd? Robert doesn't really fit that bill for me anymore. He just seems too familiar. A friend, as he says. I'm not that nervous around him anymore...at least not because of his fame.

"And Jim, but that goes without saying," Robert finishes, turning to flag down the waitress and ask for some drinks.

I notice Jimmy staring at the TV across the room, though, so I follow his gaze until it lands on the hockey game on the screen, the end of the third period.

"Shit," I spit out without a filter, and he turns to me, confused and surprised. "I forgot you were a Pitt fan," I follow up.

"Pens?" he asks, and I nod. "Hell yeah."

"They're going places this year," I comment, and he smirks, nodding.

"Oh God, here we go..." Robert mutters from my other side and I can't help but laugh and lean back in my seat.

"Sorry! It's in my nature. I was made in Pennsylvania..." I point out.

"A girl who likes hockey..." Jude murmurs, lips tugged up. "Well that's..."

"One of a kind," Jimmy finishes for him, interest now fully on me.

Apparently, this irks Robert, because he's battling for my attention, laying his arm across the back of my chair, though not necessarily around me. He clears his throat, shooting a look behind me at Jimmy that none of us miss, despite how he tries to play it off. Then, he's smiling tightly at me, forgetting the rest of the cast at the other end of the table.

"You look stunning, by the way," he compliments, and earns an eyebrow raise from me in return. 

"Thanks..." I mutter, but not because I don't appreciate it, but because he just spent an entire day assuring me we were friends and he wasn't trying to flirt. "It's just a shirt."

"I like it," he offers, and I nod and sip at a glass of water that's delivered with appetizers just after that.

Ignoring the comment, I stuff my face full of a few chips and salsa, and he watches, amused. I'm not as hungry as I thought I would've been; the early lunch I had was a pretty hefty Cesar salad, which is still lingering in my stomach somewhere, so I could totally fill up on apps.

"So tomorrow," he continues when he realizes I'm not going to respond. "You ready for the red carpet?"

I give a look at the chip I pop in my mouth, then look back to the TV Jimmy's also focused on. "I'm not really sure how to be ready for something like that, but sure."

He chuckles lightly, eyes never leaving me even though I'm not watching him. "If you don't want to be in the photos, you can hang back with Jimmy. But I don't mind..."

"Mind what?" I ask with a full mouth, still watching the end of the game intently.

"If you want to go, as my guest."

"It's not a date," I repeat, and I'm not sure why I keep protesting.

Jude laughs across the table, lifting an eyebrow at Robert. And then I feel him move my hair from my shoulder, his fingertips grazing across the exposed skin for a brief second before he answers, and it makes me freeze for a moment.

"Right. Guest."

But I don't get to question it, because just after that, the Penguins score a goal to win the game, and both Jimmy and I cheer, then aggressively high five each other in celebration. Robert sighs, pulling his hand back, but Jimmy's back to chatting with me about Pittsburgh.

"You should come to a game sometime," I let out, a little too confident, but whatever.

"I go all the time," he grins.

"Seriously?! How have I never seen you there?!"

And the chatter goes on for maybe twenty minutes longer, until I peek over and notice Robert's absence.

I scan the room, trying to locate him, until finally, my eyes land on the bar. And there he is, leaning against the bar, smiling kindly into a woman's eyes at his side. He doesn't have a drink, so his hands are clasped together, but he's a little too close for comfort, and when she runs a hand up to fix his collar, I can't say I'm not jealous. But that doesn't matter, right? I'm nothing to him, not like that. He's too much older. And I totally blew him off tonight. Great...I fucked up. Any chance I had was out the window, if it ever existed.

"And then he scored the third goal and I swear, the amount of sock monkeys that landed on the ice..." Jimmy laughs off, then notices my lack of attention. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I lie, trying to fight down the cold chills and sinking feeling in my gut. "I just realized I'm going to have to figure out how to walk in heels tomorrow without falling on my face in front of a thousand cameras..."

"It's easy."

I burst out laughing, despite my jealousy of Robert, and turn back to Jimmy with cheeky grin. "You've walked in heels?"

He shrugs, taking a sip of water. "Robert's had me do some weird shit."

I shake my head in slight amusement, but internally, I can't take any more of being in the same room while Downey tries to pick up some girl right in front of me, so I politely smile back and excuse myself, wanting nothing more than to go back to the hotel and sleep it off.

"I think I might call it a night," I say, standing.

"It's not even been an hour!" Jude complains, now on his second beer. "Stay, we've hardly talked."

"Tomorrow," I assure him. "I promised my friend a phone call," I continue to lie, "and I want to make sure I get a good night's sleep."

"All right," he agrees sadly. "But I'm going to make sure Robert lets me steal you for at least a little while."

"Sounds like a plan," I agree, not sure why the hell not one, but two of these iconic people want my attention...or wanted, apparently.

"Do you need a ride?" Jimmy asks, but I shake my head.

"I could use the fresh air after being in the studio all day. And it's only a couple blocks."

He nods curtly, promising to tell Robert, and then I'm off, not giving the bar another look; I don't want to know how far things have progressed.

So, there you have it. Two very eventful nights. Eventful for the wrong reasons, though. So, the 'tame' I mentioned? Not really pertaining to me, but to Downey. And leave it to my nerves to ruin the other good time I was having. I had freaking Jude Law wanting my attention, and I bailed like an idiot. Why? Because I fucking like Robert Downey Jr and I don't know how to avoid that now, and he has no interest.

When I reach my hotel room, I dig out the key, toss my bag on the floor, and pull out my phone, feeling bad about leaving Jimmy with the message for Robert.

R: Turning in early. See you tomorrow.

I send him the text, then tuck the phone away; I don't really want to see if I get a response. I take for the shower, for something to comfort me before I try to sleep. God, how I wish I had a drink at dinner to calm my nerves.

But then I step out and change into my pajamas, and that's when I see it in my bag; the bottle we discussed the night before. ...One wouldn't hurt, right? Yes. Yes, it would. I promised him I'd tell him when I was craving one. But I don't think I'll possibly sleep tonight thinking about tomorrow...and if he brings that girl back here...God, I don't want to listen to that on the other side of the wall. So, I pop the pill quickly, swallowing dry, then sigh, disappointed with myself.

Then there's knock at my door, so I quickly toss the pill bottle back into my bag and tug down my tank top, helping to cover my pajama pants. I don't really need to ask who it is...I kinda already assume. Fuck.

And there he is, leaning against the door frame when I swing the door open, arm folded across my chest in discomfort.

"Oh, were you sleeping?" he asks, and I shake my head slowly.

"No, just watching some TV," I lie, knowing I can't tell him what I was really up to.

He analyzes me for a moment and I can't help but feel guilty. He's right here, he told me to go to him. But how the hell do I go to him when the reason I'm taking them now is because of him? Or is it? Maybe it's not. Maybe it's just the fact that Charlie pushed me so low I can't handle myself without them. Maybe...no, there's no way I'm addicted. It's only one. Not like I'm taking a ton a day...

"I didn't know you came back," he frowns, peeking into the room behind me. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I lie, glancing down. "I sent you a text."

He pulls his phone from his jacket pocket with confusion heavy on his face, then waves it in the air with pressed lips. "Phone's dead."

"Ah," I acknowledge, then shift awkwardly, feeling the Vicodin kick in already. "Well...goodnight."

He tilts his head, standing upright with concern present on his face. His dark eyes are setting me on fire but I have no idea what to say or what to do. In a few minutes I'm gonna knock out, like I usually do, so gotta make this fast.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks again. "That girl at the bar, she wasn't...I wasn't trying to-"

"Robert, you don't need to explain anything to me," I interrupt, hand up. "I was tired. So here I am."

"I would've come up with you," he answers quickly and I smirk, shaking my head again.

"You were enjoying yourself," I argue. "And the game was over. Really, I'm fine. Just...nervous for tomorrow."

He ponders it for a moment, then sighs. "All right. Well, uh, goodnight hug?"

My eyebrows perks in amusement. "Those are a thing?"

Shrugging, he steps closer and pulls me in for one anyway. "Are now."

"Right..."

I tense a little, but gently hug him back with the awkwardness and bit of jealousy still in my heart. Which only gets worse, might I add, when he goes to release me and I feel the gentle fire of warm lips against my cheek.

I want to shy away, tickled by his facial hair that's now probably four or so days growing, but instead, I dumbly lean into it. His lips are delicate, but firm, and he lets them linger for a second before leaving my personal space completely, rolling back on his heels and stuffing his hands back into his pockets. I watch, eyes locked with his chocolate pools, and wait, my breathing capabilities gone from my will. He's smiling softly, shyly, and I have never seen him act like this...and he's almost, I don't know, sad?

Wait, why is he up here anyway?

"You should go back to the group," I whisper, remembering the red head at the bar. "I can survive one night alone."

He shakes his head, stepping back to unlock his door. "They left already. No big deal."

"Oh."

"Goodnight, Rachel," he says softly in return, then disappears into his room, leaving my blushing in the doorway to my own.


	14. Chapter 14

I barely wake up the next morning to the sound of the phone ringing, but eventually it gets me. But not easily.

Why? Well, let me tell you...my mind had other plans for me while I slept. Other plans of showing me all the possibilities of what could've happened after Downey so delicately kissed my cheek and said goodnight. Of course I dreamed of that, right? Of him going for my lips instead of the door. Of what it would possibly feel like to have that scruff of his against my jaw. What he would taste like, what he would do with his hands...

And then there's that damn phone.

Groaning once awake, I reach by my pillow, searching for it, and then I make the realization that it isn't my phone, but the hotel phone ringing. So I push myself up, yawning before I clear my throat to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Miss Thomas?" an unfamiliar voice asks.

"Yes?" I confirm.

"Mr Downey requested a wake up call, ma'am," they tell me. "And he also advised you to check your text messages..." he said with hesitation, obviously feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Uh...thanks, I will," I reply and stifle another yawn.

When I hang up the phone, the coolness on my cheek reminds me of the night before. The feeling of his kiss still lingers there, and I'm immediately brought back into my dream, but... No, not now. It's premiere day, and I'm sure there's lots to do...

I stumble over to my bag and retrieve my phone, looking at the time and the messages. Fuck, it's nearly eleven again, I gotta stop doing this...though I must admit, it feels great to actually sleep for once. There's a question mark text from my mom, following up on the invitation that I never replied to, and one from Robert...

I answer my mom first.

R: plans with Dev, how about monday?

And then I look at Robert's text.

R: Setting a wakeup call for you. I'll be doing a small interview in the morning. Hair and makeup in the conference room downstairs at one, so don't be late. We leave around three thirty out the back. Don't stray too far.

All of this prep for one small night?! Ugh. This is why I hate dressing up.

On another note, I really need to change how my texts display, because two R's is gonna get confusing... So, I go to the address book and smirk, changing his contact name, probably for the better in case I ever lose my phone, to Tony Stark, just for the hell of it.

And then I groan, realizing I only have a couple hours before I'm needed. I decide quickly to spend them raiding the very end of the hotel breakfast in the lobby, which takes roughly a half hour, and then I'm back up in my room, readying a shower, which I sit in too long. To be honest, I had a small period of time that I spent literally sitting on the shower floor under the water, quite possibly reliving my dream. Once I snapped out of that, though, I forced myself to get out and get moving, spending another good period of time on drying my hair. Finally, I find some decent clothes for the time being, then grab my phone to before I have to be downstairs.

I'm not gonna lie...it's pretty intimidating going to the conference hall, especially when I show up and have to show ID to even get in. Security stands on either side of the double doors, their hands clasped and standing still, ready and alert. Thankfully, they're quick to check their list and then I'm ushered in, met with a couple makeup artists and stylists, who are already going to work on Robert in a chair to the far side.

"There she is!" he announces, but sits still as the woman behind him toys with his hair. "Thought you wouldn't make it."

"You thought wrong," I say awkwardly with a smile back, tugging my bag further up my arm after dropping my ID and phone back into it.

"So once Jess here is done with me, she'll get you started. Then Katie'll be bringing the wardrobe over."

"Cool..." I answer with a small nod, looking around the space at everything set up.

"I'm horribly impatient to see what you've chosen," he teases in his Sherlock voice, earning a raised eyebrow from me when I meet his eyes again.

God, does he look great. Jess isn't necessarily spiking his hair, like usual, but it isn't slicked back, either. It's sort of a mix of the two, curving just right above his forehead and falling in all the right places. She must've already trimmed his beard, because it's neat and not too overpowering, and it defines his jaw perfectly. I mean...he's always easy on the eyes, but when they do him up like this...

I blush, realizing he's smirking as I stare. Thank God he can't read my thoughts, or he'd probably hate me for going back to that dream for a third time.

Clearing my throat, I find a seat across from him and pull out my phone, seeing new messages popping up.

A reply from my mother.

L: You're a terrible liar.

I furrow my brow in confusion and don't reply, going to the next one, which is from Devin. Actually, a couple from Devin. Great.

D: still waiting for this story!!!

OKAY ARE YOU KIDDING ME IS HE HOLDING YOUR HAND

rachel answer me

rachel

explain these photos NOW

Blinking, I open the link and find paparazzi photos of us at dinner a couple nights back, apparently just now surfacing. And yes, of course we were caught in that one second where he had his hand on mine.

"Oh my God..." I groan, running a hand through my loose hair.

"It's not that bad," Robert insists, apparently having already seen them. "It just looks like-"

"We were on a date?" I question, sighing. 

He huffs out a breath and his tone shifts when he responds. "You know, you might be the only woman on the planet who claims to be my fan and then doesn't want anything to do with me."

My breath catches and I lower my phone, looking back up at him with flushed cheeks. "I...that's not it, I just..."

"Just hang back with Jimmy," he suggests, crossing his legs as Jess continues working his hair. "Since you don't want to be seen with me."

"That's not what I said," I snap back, but he keeps going.

"Honestly, you don't even have to go. I can have the jet take you back tonight if you want."

"I don't want that," I groan, and then Jess awkwardly smiles as finishes up. 

"How about I give you two lovebirds a minute and then we'll start on your makeup?" she teases, leaving my jaw hanging as she goes to wander off to the makeup table she has set up.

"Well you look awfully content," I mutter, my eyes seeing Downey siting up with his smirk plastered on his face...his very pretty face.

"Because I finally got you to admit something," he answers casually, leaning forward with his elbows on the armrests of the chair.

I know I must be blushing but don't focus on it. He must see I'm distracted though, and while I'm focused on the smoothness of his voice, he goes on.

"If you think I'm in love with you, you're wrong," I promise, but it's a lie; I am..maybe...sort of...am I?

His eyes sparkle, but he says nothing more and stands, wandering toward the door with his phone in hand. I watch, blinking in amazement at how sly he can be, and turn my attention to Jess when she wanders back.

"So..." she muses, "how long have you two been a thing?"

I nearly choke on air alone when she says that and shake my head. "We're not...no. He's just a pain in my ass..." I mumble.

But the entire time she's doing my makeup and nails, my mind's wrapped around that stupid statement earlier. Am I actually in love with him? Like, Robert, not Robert. Does that even make sense? He infuriates me to a point of no return...sometimes. Yet all I want to do is kiss that stupid smirk right off his face...and every time I've needed someone, he's been there to help and I've banked on that... It's weird, seeing him so much differently than before I met him. But falling for...yeah, no, not this soon. I hope...

"You thinking up or down?" Jess asks after applying some natural makeup tones to my face, breaking into my thoughts. 

"My hair?" I ask dumbly, and she nods. "Um...I think Katie suggested up, but I kinda prefer it down, so..."

"Down it is," she agrees, then gets to work curling it and styling it to create decent waves.

Before I know it, she's finishing up, and next Katie comes wheeling in the wardrobe, trying to last minute get me into my dress. Robert's still no where to be found, which I'm thankful for when I have to strip, and then she's easing up the zipper for me and handing me a matching pair of black heels and some jewelry to toss on. I snap the bracelet into place, pin in the earrings, and then clasp the necklace into line, and when I turn back to Katie, she's smiling in approval.

"You were right, down suits you," she hums, looking me up and down.

And then the door's reopen and Robert returns, ending whatever long call he was on,. He pockets the phone while his gaze finally rests on me, and I shift awkwardly. 

"Wow," he breathes out, stuck on his words, and it gives me the self confidence I need. "I hardly recognize you... You look great!"

"Thanks..." I manage, blushing immediately again.

But Katie's quick to get him behind her setup, asking him to ditch the clothes and get his shirt and pants on himself. When he reemerges, she's tucking in his shirt for him, adding the tie, and slipping the jacket on. All of which I watch in awe, realizing he really is Tony Stark, to a T.

"Ready, madam?" he asks once she starts packing up, Sherlock mode back on.

I want to panic. I want to be nervous. But his mood's shifted and so has mine and as he looks me over with that same soft smile as the few night's before, I feel like a weight's off my shoulders. This is going to be a once in a lifetime experience, right? Why not enjoy it?

"Why yes, I think I am," I toss back, faking my best English accent, which makes him laugh, and it kills me a little.

Loosen up, Rachel, I tell myself, and when he holds out his arm for me to take, I only hesitate for a second before accepting.

Security at the other end opens the back doors for us, leading outside to where I assume the car will be waiting, and I wonder if there's gonna be fans. Probably not, right? If there were, why not just go out the front? But they always have a way of figuring out where their favorites are going to be...

When the doors open to the sunlight, there's no one; it's quiet, and that makes me feel a slight bit more relieved.

"About time!" Jimmy calls, leaning against the car with his phone out. "Photo first, for Instagram," he orders, and Robert stands tall, posing for the camera on instinct.

I try to break away, but he shakes his head and keeps his arm bent, locking me in. So I smile, biting my lip at his adorable little action, and try not to think about the fact that millions of people are about to see me on his social media.

"So" I hear in my ear when we start moving toward the car again; he's still speaking as Sherlock. "I do presume this is your first appearance at such event?"

"You presume correctly," I confirm, grinning like an idiot as we sit in the car.

Robert's definitely in character now, blinking vacantly ahead before sparatically turning his attention back on me once the doors close and lock the three of us in the car.

"I don't suppose you've brought a light?" he asks when he pulls a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket.

"Oh, we're doing this again?" Jimmy asks from the seat on my other side, unamused.

"This? What do you mean by this?" Downey asks politely.

"Don't give me that shit," Jimmy answers, rolling his eyes playfully.

Robert hums, thinking, then proceeds with his previous question. "Right, then. A light?"

"I don't smoke..." I mutter, no longer in the mood to play this game; I'm honestly pretty turned off by cigarettes.

Sensing my discomfort, he pockets the box again and doesn't press any further until the car finally pulls up some time later at the entrance, and a new panic sets in. Once I step out of this car, I'm going to be hit with his world. The questions about who I am, the questions about if we're an item. The eyes following me...at least for a little while.

I swallow nervously, and Robert's hand finds my bare knee, squeezing lightly with a smile.

"No pressure. If you want to be with me, I'm here. If not, fall back with Jimmy, and we'll regroup inside. Okay?"

I nod silently, not able to find words.

"I'll do the talking, just try to enjoy yourself, please," he asks.

"Sign, please?" I manage after a second as the doors open.

"What?" he asks, a little louder now that there's the instant screaming of his name from outside.

"The fans. Sign for them. I know how it is to wait there..."

He thinks it over briefly, then nods, hand out to Jimmy, who places a large black marker in his hand. And then he's out and the cries for him get even louder, ringing in my ears from inside the car. My heart's thumping and yes, I'm panicking again, but I have to move. So I emerge, and try to fight off the eyes I feel all over me as I follow him toward the entry point.

He fixes his jacket, and then he's off, eccentric as ever, like a completely different person. It's honestly quite humorous to watch.

"He's nuts, isn't he?" Jimmy asks and I smile, following him as he films for Facebook live.

"That's what makes him him," I tell him.

We wander past the interview point; apparently Robert decides on his own to skip it, and besides, Jude is on the podium right now anyway. He waves at us when he sees us, and I smile and wave back, enjoying his friendly attitude that he still carries from last night. Then, I watch as Robert does exactly as I asked, and walks with his arms wide open toward the fan pit, signing autographs with security at his side. It warms my heart, and inside I hope he understands how much that means to some of them...

I'd love to tell you there's a lot more going on, but there really isn't...at least not for me. I do wind up standing back with Jimmy until Robert's done signing, and then we're finally out of the very public eye and into the slightly less public world inside; the one of reporters and photographers. Robert does some solo shots, standing straight, then with his arms out. Then he's doing some awkward as hell poses, but nothing unexpected from him....some funny faces, the usual. And then finally, as Jimmy passes to film him walking down, he offers his hand for the photos.

"Oh, no..." I say with a shake of my head, but he wanders over and physically takes my hand this time, pulling me back toward the backdrop. "What are you doing?!" I hiss.

"Smile," is all he says back.

His arm slips around my waist and I can feel his body pressing against mine from the side, making my heart flutter. I glance at him, his signature smirk on his face as he stares straight again, and can't help but feel somewhat comfortable with this. He's too familiar at this point, even if there's still so much I have to learn about him. I realize I must look stupid, so I look out against the flashes, nearly blind, and try my best to look normal.

Everything else is a blur after that. He does introduce me as his friend, which is fine, I guess. A few reporters as what he's wearing and I'm really thankful no one asks who I have on, because I have no idea. After the third stop, I stand back with Jimmy, not wanting to get into the spotlight, but once he finishes his rounds and goes to actually enter the theater, he places his arm over my shoulder and leans down to converse with me.

"See?" he asks lightly. "Not so bad!"

"It's...interesting to see the other side of things," I comment. "Thank you for stopping for them outside."

He smiles back, killing me softly, and then leaves me with Jimmy as he goes to the stage to do some sort of introduction with Jude. The two of them go one for a few minutes after we find our seats, and then once the movie starts, he slips into the seat next to me. And what am I thinking about? Nothing on the screen, like I should be. Nope, I'm wondering what it would be like to go to a movie with him....like a normal movie. A...date...

After a few minutes, I glance over, and admire his side profile as he watches the movie. I have no idea if he notices, but I eventually go back to watching, slightly weirded out by the fact that I'm sitting next to the star on the screen. That doesn't last long, though, because a few more minutes pass, and then he's leaning over me to get Jimmy's attention, raising his eyebrows in silent question. Jimmy nods, and then they're standing, so I follow suit. I know most actors don't stay long, but I was so focused on the screen that I didn't even notice half the theater empty.

When we exit through the back doors, Robert's hand is back on my shoulders, quietly guiding me away from the fans out there and to the car; I don't protest, there's no way he'd reach them over that banister anyway. So, we board our vehicle, and then we're off to...

"After party at the hotel," he grins, leaning back in his seat. "Sorry about the movie; just wanted to get out before the crowds caught on. I'll get you a copy, if you want to finish it."

"I can wait a few more weeks," I answer.

There's light conversation between he and Jimmy as we drive, and I somewhat involve myself with a few nods, but I'm fiddling with my hands now, wondering why I'm so damn caught up in that dream I had. Yesterday I was fine. Today, a complete wreck around him.

Thankfully, when we arrive, most of the gang from dinner is already there, and there's no pressure of outside fans or paparazzi once inside. There's hall for earlier has been converted into a small area with a lounge and bar, a ton of food on tables at the side, and room to dance. It's sort of like a wedding reception, I guess, but...Sherlock themed, which is awesome.

"What do you wanna get into first?" Robert asks, removing his jacket and tossing it to the person checking them at the entrance. 

"Uh...alcohol," I decide, and he grins, hand out toward the table full of snacks next to the bar.

I grab more than a couple, stuffing my face with an apologetic look, and he laughs, grabbing a glass of water once we move on to the bar. I order a glass of wine, my usual, and then take a seat on one of the stools, Robert standing a little too close for comfort in front of me.

"What's on your mind?" he asks, and I tilt my head, thinking of anything but what's really there.

"Aero," I lie. "Hope he's doing okay."

He raises an eyebrow. "You're at a movie premiere in New York City with the star of the movie and you're....thinking about your cat?"

I nod with a sarcastic grin. "You got one better?"

"Yeah," he agrees, showing his teeth as he lifts the already empty glass from my hand and places it on the bar, taking my hand next and leading me to where there's a few people dancing. "Dancing, come on."

I don't have a chance to protest, like the last time, before he's taking both hands and swinging his hips in a ridiculous manner, like a shimmy. I'm not one for dancing like this, to be honest, but I laugh, letting him make a fool of himself. As long as he's having fun, because I can't get enough of that laugh of his...

That goes on for a few minutes before I motion toward the bar, needing another drink. I turn back toward where I left him, but he's now schmoozing with some girls, probably about the movie, but I'm still a little jealous. It's okay, though, I was getting tired from dancing, anyway.

"Need some company?" I hear, and when I turn, Jude's wandering up to order something of his own; something amber and in a short glass, maybe scotch or whiskey.

"Do I look that out of place?" I ask, guilty written all over my face.

"Just a little," he teases. "Rob ditch you?"

"He's just...doing what he does best," I answer, glancing back at Robert, who now has his arms around both girls for a photo.

"Jealous, are we?" he asks, and I laugh into my glass.

"Maybe a little..." I admit. 

"I think he has a thing for you, you know," he comments, and I turn my attention to him at my side, now leaning against the bar top. "He's never been so upset about someone getting along with his buddies before."

"Upset?" I ask, finishing off glass two.

"Robert?" Jude smiles and sips his drink. "Never. Man's the happiest being on this planet, I swear."

I laugh, agreeing, and ask the bartender for a third.

"Drinking to hide your feelings?" he asks, and I sigh, guilty again.

"It's a party," I use as an excuse, and he raises his glass.

"Amen to that."

I can't tell you where the time goes, but Jude launches into set stories that I can't get enough of, and a few more glasses and an hour or so later, my head's spinning, the alcohol not wanting to be my friend. Oh, I drank away those feelings, that's for sure. And Robert's still working his way around the room; it's fine, that's what he needs to do. Meet and greet, or greet and meet, or...yeah. That thing, where he meets people.

Yeah, I'm definitely tipsy, and it's noticeable, especially when I zone out for the fourth time during one of Jude's stories, and he questions me finally.

"I'm sorry," he chuckles lightly, now on his third glass. "I've been going on too long."

"No, no!" I insist, trying to shift on my feet, but instead, I nearly trip and try to steady myself with my hand on the bar.

"Easy there," he warns, setting down his glass and moving his hands to catch me and stabilize me. "A bit too many, hmm?"

"It'll wear off," I shrug, smiling stupidly.

And then my dumb ass tries to sit and misses, and the next thing I know, someone's catching me before I stumble anymore, and it isn't Jude.

"I got her," I hear in Robert's low tone, and he helps me stabilize myself by swinging my arm around his neck. "Whoa there, Rach..." he warns, "let's get you up to your room. Sound like a good plan?"

"I'm 'kay..." I mumble, somehow coherent, but not convincing.

He chuckles lightly. "Come on..."

Slowly, I lean against his warm body as he thanks Jude for keeping my company.

"I'm gonna get her to bed," is all I make out from him, trying to focus.

"I knew you liked her!" I hear Law say as he pats Robert roughly on the back.

I want to say he glared at him, but I can't really tell. My focus is not there, and he plays it off by ignoring said comment, repeating that I'm a little out of it and need to go to bed to sober up. All that's on my mind from here out though is that comment...is he hiding something?

"I'll be back down in a second," he says, then he pulls me out of the ball room and toward the elevators, hoping not to run into any press on the way out.

We board the first elevator that dings for us, thankful that no one else is going up with us, and I lean against him as the vertigo sets in, clinging to his arm. I see him blink my way, lips tugged up in a smirk.

"You having fun?" he asks playfully and I grin and hum in response.

"Your beard is so soft..." I sigh, running a hand up his chin and over his facial hair.

He flinches just a little bit at the contact and clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably under my weight. He doesn't let go, and I don't let my weird comments go, either.

"You're so hot tonight," I hiccup. "I can't believe I'm friends with Robert Downey Jr...shit..."

He hesitates and I swear his face lights up red, but I don't know for sure. Of course, I keep going, like an idiot.

"I had a dream about you, you know," I tell him matter-of-factly.

"Oh yeah?" he asks, and as distant as it sounds, I nod, grinning.

Then, the doors to the lift are opening, and he's walking me down toward our group of rooms.

"You have your key?" he asks.

I fumble in my dress pockets for it, but it's not there. "I think I lost it..."

He laughs again, quietly, then proceeds to take me to his room instead. "We'll replace it in the morning. You can use my room for now."

I giggle like an idiot, unable to contain it, and run my hand along his chest as he keys the lock and opens the door. "Mr Downey...at least buy me dinner first..."

He doesn't answer, just tenses again as I make contact with him, so I question it. Alcohol makes me bold.

"Am I that bad?" I ask, sounding hurt...I hope?

"You're drunk," he answers simply as he holds my weight when I accidentally trip on the carpet.

"I get it..." I keep rambling. "I'm not blonde or tall or skinny or.."

He ignores that statement, frowning at me, and turns on the light by the bed. "Time to lay down."

"Fine..." I grumble, turning when he loosens his grip.

I fall on my ass on the bed, regaining my grip over his shoulder in reaction to the swirling feeling in my stomach and head, sitting up. Of course, I'm laughing my ass off for no reason, probably looking insane with my liquid courage. But God, does he look sexy, leaning over me with his hair losing its spike and the smell of sweat and cigar from the party mixed with his cologne...

"Stay," I slur when I notice he's so close I can feel his breath.

He tries to remove my arm, but I lock it in a death grip and try to look seductive, though who knows what I really look like at this point.

"Rach," he protests, but I see his eyes flicker down to my lips for just a split second.

"Come on," I whine. "Ya know ya want to. I want to. Have for years."

"You can't make that decision right now," he disagrees.

"So you do want me?" I ask, twirling my fingers in the hair at the base of his neck, making him squirm and his face redden.

"Rachel, you're drunk, stop."

It sounds like a demand, but I can't think coherently so I miss it.

"Please, Bobby..." I beg, stumbling over my words. "I want you."

What I don't miss is the way he swallows, hard, his Adam's apple bobbing quickly as he sucks in a breath. He's mentally battling himself.

"You're right, I like you and -" 

"Bobby?" he asks instead. "Where did that come from?"

"'s cute," I mumble, leaning up to brush my lips against his like a complete idiot.

He turns his head slightly at the contact, closing his eyes as his shoulders tense. My lips graze the corner of his mouth, kissing part of his mustache instead.

"Rach, seriously..." he groans, shifting uncomfortably. "This isn't how our first kiss should be..."

I hiccup again, grinning against his jaw as my drunk self peppers kisses across it and back. "You've thought about this too?"

His breath hitches when I say this and mine chills his lips, his eyes still closed and brow furrowed until I ghost his soft, broad lips with my own. Just like I imagined, his mustache and goatee tickle a tiny bit, but in a good way. I hesitate, trying to focus on the situation that I won't remember tomorrow, then boldly press my lips to his. He groans softly as my mouth moves against his, and when I part our kiss to ask for access to his, he caves, parting his lips slightly as he kisses back. I wish I could memorize the feeling for morning, focus on the butterflies in my stomach, anything...but something tells me I won't even know this happened.

It's all cut too short, though. After a few soft kisses, he grips my arm and drops himself under it, finally freeing himself.

"This can't happen," he almost growls, sticking to his original answer.

I sigh hard when he stands and backs away from all touch, letting myself fall back against the mattress. He's rubbing his forehead, trying to not get upset with himself, I think...or me, I can't tell which.

"Fine," I snap, assuming it's the latter.

"Rach, I can't...we..." He fights to form words, but gives up with a dramatic sigh. "I'll take the couch. We can talk in the morning, okay?"

I grunt angrily in return, rolling onto my side, my drunk brain wanting to ignore him. I hear him shift the cushions around on the couch before I start to fade, but I do feel the light weight of a blanket being tossed over me before I fall into sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

I groan and squeeze my eyes tight, refusing to let the light into them. Grabbing at what I think are sheets around me, I pull them over my face and turn onto my side, feeling the burn in my chest and the pounding in my head already beginning. Then, I hear what sounds like...running water? It turns off, and a few moments later I hear a door opening and footsteps coming my way, accompanied by the voice that makes my heart start racing in anxiety.

"You give your hand to me," he sings, "and then you say goodbye, and I watch you walk away, beside that lucky guy..."

I recognize it; You Don't Know Me. It's been rerecorded hundreds of times, but my favorite is probably Michael Grimm at the moment. And, if memory serves me well, Robert's sang it in a movie before...though, not as seriously as now.

"Oh, you'll never, never know...the one who loves you so..."

To be honest...this song fits his voice perfectly, and it makes me wonder why he hasn't recorded it on his own yet.

Regardless, he cuts off right when I shift under the blankets, and I know I'm caught.

"Oh good, you're up," he observes in his familiar raspy voice.

I don't even think before my head's whipping out from under the covers to glare at him, the sunlight through the windows immediately making me regret my decision. I squeeze my eyes shut again and groan in discomfort.

"Hangover?" he muses.

"How'd you guess?" I mumble back, no amused whatsoever in my tone.

"Well," Robert says, drying his hair with a towel when I peek an eye open at him, "figured after you and Jude kept refilling your drinks, you might be feeling it this morning."

I study him, taking in his half naked appearance. He must've just taken a shower; a towel is in hand and a loose pair of jeans with the fly undone hang around his waist. I can see the dip in his hips and the cut of his abs clearly, making my mouth nearly water, but I shake my head clear of the thoughts before they're there...metaphorically, of course...that'd hurt too much right now.

"Don't take this the wrong way..." I force out. "But you're uh...you're...not wearing any clothes, and..."

"That's cause I took a shower," he says casually. "Needed it after last night."

That does not calm me, not at all.

"Last night?" I squeak out.

"Yeah, it was pretty wild," he tells me, going for his bags.

"Robert," I say, feeling dizzy with panic. "I know you want to be a smart ass, but I have a lot of fucking questions right now, so if you could do me a favor and-"

His laugh interrupts me, fueling the panic further when I realize he really is just being a smart ass. Annoying fucker...

"Relax, nothing happened."

"So we didn't..." I whisper, throat dry with embarrassment.

"What, have sex?"

I blink, unable to accept the word. The last time I had sex? Charlie. When he pushed himself on me. And I laid there accepting it like an idiot. Surely Robert wouldn't have done that...no, he knows better. Right?

He chuckles and pulls a shirt on over his head. "Nope," he comforts. "Don't worry."

I pull the blankets up and realize I'm still in my dress, sighing heavily with thanks. As much as I'd love for...that...I would've loved more to remember it. For it to be something mutual and coherent and...just anything aside from painful and uncomfortable like I'm used to. You know what, maybe that wouldn't be the end of the world to not remember it...

"We just kissed," he adds nonchalantly, tossing the towel back into the bathroom.

I stare at him with wide eyes as he smirks back. I can feel my heart throbbing, mixed with the desire to keep ogling his form fitting clothing. But the butterflies right now are more active than ever, pushing me to the point of almost sickness.

"We what?!"

"Don't sound so disgusted, princess," he teases. "Technically, you kissed me, so..." he adds, pointing from me to him.

I push myself up into a sitting position, staring at him with my jaw slack. "Why...no. No, I wouldn't, I...shit, I'm so, so sorry..."

"You wouldn't, but drunk you would," he grins. "Don't worry, I told you no and put you to bed like a gentleman."

I blush and push myself to slide to the edge of the bed, grabbing my clutch which is sitting on the floor and looking for my key to go back to my room and rid myself of the shame.

"You said you lost it," I hear from behind me, and when I look up, Robert's handing me a glass of water and some Advil. "We'll get you a new one."

I take them, thankful, and nod. When I finish, I set the glass down on the bedside table and hang my head in shame, fiddling with my hands.

"So we...I..."

"Yup."

"Oh God..." I groan to myself; yeah, I'm back to thinking I'd like to remember it. "I kissed Robert Downey Jr and I can't even remember it...?"

With this, he starts laughing, and it's genuine. I look at him, his eyes pulling up and wrinkling the skin around his eyes as he flashes his perfect white teeth, bright against the stubble that's now been trimmed since yesterday; guess he's not completely ready to take on Tony's look yet. Then, he drops onto the mattress next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder to make me look up.

"If I wasn't such a good guy, you would've done more. But hey, if it helps, you're not the first to-"

I smack his chest and roll my eyes, sighing, which only makes him laugh harder when I clench my head with my hands, the pounding returning.

"You really do have Tony's ego," I mock.

"Gee, you haven't told me that before..." he teases, giving a simply smile, lips tight.

I return the gesture, enjoying his warm, brown eyes on my own. "Well...thanks for um...this..." I mumble, gesturing around the room.

"No biggie," he promises, with the most childish dialect he could've chosen, which reminds me of why I have always loved his personality. "But how about we have that chat now?"

"What chat?" I ask quietly, trying not to think too hard.

He only laughs again. "How much do you remember?"

I struggle to ignore the smell of his soap, strong next to me, but wind up glancing at his strong jawline and lips briefly, feeling myself redden instantly. He's so, so close, and I've thought about kissing him for years...and here I am, having done it with no fucking memory.

"Ordering wine," I mumble sarcastically.

"Well," he starts. "We danced."

My mind flashes to his hands in mine, holding on with a warmth and tightness he hadn't before. "Okay..okay, yeah, I kinda...maybe remember that..."

"How about Jude?"

"I fucking kissed Jude too?!" I shout, grimacing again when the throbbing in my head returns.

He hangs his head in laughter, the high pitched giggle coming out in waves. "No, no. He was just keeping an eye on you."

"I don't remember that..." I manage. "I mean, I remember him coming to say hi and we chatted...but I couldn't tell you about what."

He chuckles lightly. "I couldn't tell you. Probably telling embarrassing stories about me. Pretty easy, you know...my whole life is an embarrassing story."

"I'm sorry, I'm sure I ruined your night..."

I do feel terribly about it. My intent wasn't to get drunk, but seeing him flirting with those girls... Something seriously switched in me when I had that dream. Or maybe when I promised him I'd let him help me stop relying on the pills. I mean, the next day, I felt guilty as hell about it, and my mind made up for it overnight...

"You didn't ruin it," he says genuinely and kindly, removing his hand from my shoulder finally. "But maybe...let's talk about why you drank so much?"

I swallow nervously, blushing, and look at my hands in my lap. "I just...I wasn't keeping count," I lie.

He sighs and runs a hand through his damp hair, which catches my attention back up.

"Okay, we've kissed, I think we're past awkward. So I'd really love it if you could be yourself around me," he begs, and it catches me off guard. "I saw a little bit of it the other day, but you're back to shy and reserved. Where's talkative Rachel? The one who stares in awe at snow and the one who sasses me when I don't listen to her?"

I inhale and hold it, then try to relax. Yeah, sassy Rachel is easy. But sassy Rachel isn't always the best option... Still, he has a point. I've been uptight and haven't relaxed around him yet.

"You're right. Okay."

"So?"

I flick my eyes back up to him and study his; they're warm chocolate tone melts me, and I take in his facial features up close for the first time. His eyelashes, long and dark as in all the photos, the laughs lines around his jaw, the wrinkles a the creases of his eyes... God, is he perfect. And I'm...such a mess right now.

I feel my hands start to shake so I make a game time decision to be truthful.

"Okay...okay, fine," I manage, voice just as shaky. "You're...you. I've liked you for years. Since...since Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, I think. And that was just a stupid crush, whatever... But now that I know you. Like you, not what I thought I knew...I freaking hate you most of the time..."

"You know, I'm not gonna say I'm not confused..." he says, and I don't dare look at his face. "Did you not enjoy yourself this weekend?"

"I did," I hurriedly confirm. "But I had this dream, and then I couldn't get it out of my head, and then you were hanging out with that girl at the bar and those girls last night, and..."

I groan and lean forward, laying my head in my hands in embarrassment. What the hell was I thinking? There goes any friendship he thought we had. I finally fangirled over him. And sort of told him I hate him. Great.

"I'll uh...I'll get out of your hair now, I guess. You have that time locked at the studio today, right? I mean, I should go pack anyway, so..." I ramble while I grab my clutch and go to stand, but something makes me hesitate. "Did you...did you like it?"

I hit him with my best puppy dog eyes, just wanting to know what he really thought of me since I've been so honest. He opens his mouth slightly to speak, then avoids my gaze and runs a hand through his hair again.

"Rach, it would never work..." he says softly, like he doesn't want to hurt me, but it does anyway.

"Right... I get it." I do; he could have anyone, so why me?

To my surprise, he brings his soft eyes back up. "It's not you, it's just... Look, you're what, twenty five, twenty six?"

"Thirty in a couple months," I correct.

He sighs. "Okay. Well, I'm forty seven, Rachel."

"I know."

He hesitates. "Of course you do... That's seventeen years older than you. Fuck, I was graduating high school when you were born!"

"That's not what I asked, but okay." I crack my jaw, starting to get annoyed, and try to turn away again.

"Trust me, I've been arguing with myself over this since Malibu..." he mumbles, shaking his head as it lays in his hands. "But I'm all around the world, running from place to place...I'm not built for a relationship, and I told you I'm not a playboy like Stark. I can only disappoint you."

"That's still not what I asked," I answer sharply.

He blinks, peeking out at me. "Yes."

He's blunt and quick with it, and I can only watch, my eyes settling on how...depressed his face looked.

"I just wanted to know," I say, calming myself down now that I have an answer. "Since you asked me to tell the truth..."

I try to fake a smile, but I really just want out of this awkward situation, so I clear my throat and try to find the courage to get up and leave. To my surprise, he's frowning now, the happiness stripped from him, and he doesn't let his eyes off of me.

"If it would work..." he slams his free hand against the mattress at his side, making the blankets puff up and ripple.

At the contact, I instinctively react to the sound they make, shuddering and audibly gasping for a breath.

"Shit..." he mumbles when he sees me flinch and try to pull away, turning my face. "Rach. Hey. Rach, it's me. It's okay, I just...I don't have the best temper sometimes, but I would never..."

I take a few deep breaths, trying to remove Charlie from my mind; he's the one I'm afraid of. The one who threatened me before we left. The one who's already hurt me. It's unfair for me to judge anyone else like that, but it's reflex at this point. The reason why I got drunk try not to get too emotional around a guy last night in the first place. Robert's never done a single thing to hurt me, despite what kind of past he had, and especially after last night...

"It's okay," I breathe after a few moments and loosen up. "I'm fine."

His mouth twitches and next thing I know, he's lifting my face back toward him with the hand that was on my arm, his finger under my chin. I sigh and force a smile again...I'm getting used to doing that. Then he swallows, and his eyes fill with a nervous haze, and he shifts closer to me and rests his other hand behind me on the bed, eyes focused on my mouth.

"What are you doing?" I almost whisper it, my heart picking up speed, feeling my breath come short at his sudden closeness.

"Letting you remember it," he says quietly back.

"What?" I repeat, suddenly breathless.

He runs his finger over my lips in a signal to be quiet, so I do, watching his motions instead. Whatever the hell is happening...has suddenly cured my headache and I approve of it.

I can feel his weight shift forward again until his chest lightly brushes against my shoulder, his breath on my lips. His hand grazes my cheek, moving from where he's focused, and I can barely focus on his face. Still, I watch his mouth as he tilts his head, hesitating before lightly placing them over my own. The anticipation nearly kills me and I swear my heart falters when they do touch, like a feather at first and then pressing down. I let my eyes flutter closed, focusing on his warmth. This is nothing like Charlie. Nothing pressured, nothing unwanted... And then something hits...a spark, a connection...something. He only lingers for a second, leaving it at a simple kiss, then pulls back just a little bit, and I can feel his eyelashes as they reopen and face tightens with thought.

I'm panting, my hands are shaking...I'm a fucking wreck. He swallows nervously, waiting for me to move, or something. But I can't. I'm frozen. Robert just fucking kissed me and I'm not drunk and I'm not high and...yeah, it's so much better than my dream.

Shit...my dream... I bite my lip, comparing the two in my head, and feel my lips tug up. I finally open my eyes, just long enough to meet his, holding my breath without realizing it. And then something overcomes me, and I quickly lean back in, stealing his lips in another kiss. I have no idea why I suddenly have courage, but I'm guessing it's because I've already made a fool out of myself, so what else do I have to lose?

But he doesn't pull away, or falter. No, instead, he pushes my lips apart gently with his own, moving them with his as he pushes it past that innocent first touch. His hand trails fire down my side next, leaving my cheek for my waist as his body hovers over my personal space. I like it.

After we reconnect twice, I feel my shaking hands very noticeably wringing again in my lap, not sure what to do, until they're captured. He takes them in his free hand and one by one drapes them over his shoulders, steadying my nerves just a little bit. Well...until I feel a wet line drawn over my lower lip and his tongue asks for entrance, which I give a little too freely.

He tastes like mint, probably having just brushed his teeth, and a hint of cigar, which I'm assuming he had the night before, also gone from my memory. And God, is he skillful with that tongue of his. He meets mine, battling me, and I'm overwhelmed by the scratching of his beard against my jaw. I inhale through my nose sharply, and my arms tighten around his neck, and he takes the opportunity to secure my hip, shifting me up and over his lap until I'm facing him, lips still attached. He lets his arms lock around me, and I can't think straight.

The change in sitting position does nothing but heat up the kisses, making my body temperature rise as I realize my dress must be riding up around back. But this...God, him...

I grab at his collar subconsciously, letting go and enjoying this. He's perfect, and he's making my stomach swirl and my body react in ways I never have with Charlie...not since we first met. And then I realize every ounce of tension I had with Robert is fading away, draining from my body. Yeah, we're way past awkward now.

But nothing great can last forever, right?

His phone goes off, buzzing no the dresser across the room, and he reluctantly breaks the kiss, breathing heavy.

"I should get that..." he whispers hoarsely, so I clear my throat and shift off of him, letting him grab it before it stops ringing. "Yeah?"

I swallow, sitting on the bed by myself again, trying to catch my breath. My hair's a mess, and I'm sure my makeup's no better, but he hasn't commented. But that's not important. Focus, Rachel...focus. God, what the fuck does this mean? Are you a thing now? He likes you. That's obviously. He wouldn't have moved you into his fucking lap if he didn't. Or put your arms over those shoulders...those very, very strong shoulders...

Shit, clear your mind, before he notices...

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. Two minutes," he says, breaking into my thoughts.

Before I can react properly he's ending the call, tossing his phone into a duffel bag type deal. Then, he's grabbing a jacket and makes his way toward the door, sunglasses and hat in hand.

"Car's here..." he murmurs, attention not on the car at all...or me. "Meet you for dinner later?" he asks.

I smile a confirmation, unable to speak. I've forgotten all English, I think. 

"Cool. Uh, I'll text you. Just lock the door on your way out..." he adds, slinging his bag over his head; he seems too deep in his own thoughts for anything else, and then I'm alone, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.


	16. Chapter 16

"I have been waiting for this call for too long," Devin states, rather calmly.

I sigh, running my hand over my face. Maybe this was a mistake. It was the only thing to get my moving and out of his room and far from snooping, though. I took to the front desk in a walk of shameless shame and got a new key for my room, then forced myself to shower and hang the dress up neatly, readying it for its return to his stylist. I probably ate half the breakfast display downstairs after that, and then decided to take a walk around the block. Nothing helped get my mind off of the morning, so when I got back to my room that afternoon, I finally did what I was dreading and called Devin.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you," I nearly whisper, debating whether or not to tell her the rest.

"Uh huh." 

Yeah, she's upset.

"It's been crazy busy and I meant to call you and tell you but-"

"How could you not tell me you were going to be Robert Downey Jr's fucking date to a fucking red carpet movie premiere?!" she shouts finally, and I squeeze my eyes shut, still feeling a little bit of that headache from earlier.

"Not so loud," I groan, sitting on my floor with my knees against my chest and my head back.

"And you're hungover," she laughs, lowering her voice, thank God.

"It was worse this morning, don't worry..." I mumble, closing my eyes against the light filtering through the window.

She gasps and I swallow nervously, trying to quickly find a cover up.

"Oh my God, you got drunk and wound up with one of the actors, didn't you?!" she guesses.

I hesitate, not knowing how to answer, and Devin takes that as an answer in its own.

"Rachel Thomas," she whispers, weird since I was expecting another yell. "Was it Downey?!"

I'm silent, and I know she knows.

"Holy fuck..." she breathes. "Okay. Okay, but you're not pregnant, right? Please tell me you're not-"

"Devin!" I groan. "We didn't...he just let me use his bed."

I can nearly hear her frown when she responds. "You mean you didn't..."

"Nothing happened," I lie...yeah, lots happened, but with this being her reaction to just the premiere alone, I can't even imagine what she'd do if she finds out we kissed...twice.

She sighs, and then takes a step back. "Still...you were his date. I have so many questions!"

"We went as friends," I correct.

And then she starts blasting me with them anyway.

"Is that what the dress was for?!"

"Yeah."

"And you got to try them on?! Without me?!" 

Yes, but you know I hated every second of it."

"And I know you didn't to that makeup on your own..." she teases, and she's right; I don't do lots of make up often.

"He had someone come in. Like makeup, hair, styling... I swear the man's a girl at heart."

"You know there's a rumor he's bi, right?"

"A rumor," I remind her. "He's...definitely into girls," I say as my face heats up red and I remember the feeling of his hands around my waist and my knees on either side of his lap.

"Uh oh," she answers, and I realize I have to find a reason to why I would've said that... "Someone else catch his eye?"

"Sort of," I tell her, and it isn't a lie; he was with those girls both nights...

"Mmm...but he looked so cute with you in the photos..." she pouts. "And you look happy."

"I am," I admit smoothly. "Dev...I forgot to tell you something else..."

She's quiet and I know she must hate me for hiding things again, but this one was really not in my mind. I forced it out, and put it aside while I've been gone. That's really the only way I could enjoy this and let myself relax...even if I was trying to push Robert away the whole time for some dumb reason.

"Charlie...left."

There's another pause, and then finally, "like, left, left?"

"Like...he's not coming back left."

"Rachel," she sighs again, "you know he'll try-"

"It wasn't just a little fight, Dev. It's done. And it was his decision this time, so I know it's real."

"I don't know what to say..." she says sadly. "I know you liked him, but Rachel, he was terrible for you. Toxic."

"I know." I fake a smile, at least to myself. "I know, Dev. I've thought it over and you're right."

"Hold up," she laughs. "You're agreeing with me on something?!"

"I am," I smirk. "Don't get used to it."

She chuckles back and I feel okay again.

"You sound happy," she comments softly.

"I am..." I whisper back. "Am I allowed to be? I forget sometimes..."

"Of course, dork! That's all I've ever wanted for you." A pause. "We'll get through it, okay? Find you a good guy and get your confidence back..."

I smile to myself and lift my head from the wall, knowing I'm not ready to tell her I may or my not be dating someone new already... "Yeah. We'll talk when I get back?"

"Yeah, I want to hear more about the premiere!" she agrees. "But I gotta go back to work."

"Bring Aero back over tonight," I request. "We'll catch up."

She agrees, and then I'm left debating what the hell to do with the rest of my afternoon. Robert said dinner tonight, and I'm still not sure if that means a date or just dinner or even just snacks on the plane... The flight is short, so we're leaving this evening, but...

I spend the next half hour packing my things back up, noting the swimsuit I tucked away for some reason...and what do you know, the hotel has an indoor pool, just my luck! I need to expend some energy...so I toss it on, cover up, then head down to do some laps.

By the time I return, I'm exhausted. I dry my hair the best I can, then strip out of my covering clothes and drop them back into the packed bag. I know it'll soak the rest of the contents, but oh well, they'll dry. It's not till I'm ready to pull out some dry clothes and change that there's a knock at the door. I look at the clock on the bed side table and realize it's already about four...where the hell did the time go?!

I reluctantly cover myself up and answer it, peeking out and sighing in relief when I realize it's just Robert.

"Sorry," he greets with a sheepish smile, kicking the ground slightly. "We went over at the studio and then we hit traffic..."

"No Jimmy?" I ask, wary bout letting myself be seen in my bikini in front of everyone.

"Checking us out. Think we'll have to take dinner on the plane."

"Oh," I answer simply, a little depressed over that one.

"Can I uh...can I come in?" he asks awkwardly, and I blink, realizing how weird I'm being.

I stand to the side, opening the door and let him in.

"You all packed?" he asks as he passes, and I grab the towel I set down earlier and dab at my hair some more.

"Mostly. Just gotta change."

"Change?"

I don't miss the confusion in his voice, but he definitely misses my appearance. I walk by him as he turns to me with his eyes growing wide, looking me up and down, and God, does it give me confidence. It's not the greedy look Charlie would give, it's softer, kinder...but still somewhat sexual, I think. I guess that's what I get for walking around in a swimsuit.

"I...didn't know you were a swimmer..." he mumbles, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking anywhere but my direction.

Honestly, it's adorable. He's flustered. The big star, without words. The cocky son of a bitch that was making me stumble over my own speech...speechless.

"On occasion. Never anything official." I raise an eyebrow, gathering some clothes from my mostly packed bag. "Is there a problem?"

He sucks in a breath and a look of panic comes over his face very briefly. "You're um...you wanna get changed?"

And that gets me. Seriously? This is all it took to make him act like a high school boy?

"You said to be comfortable around you, so that's what I'm doing."

"By walking around wet and half naked?" he asks and glances back at me, almost as a whine.

"You barely had your pants on this morning!" I gasp in disbelief; hypocrite.

"That was different."

"You also told me not to cover up way back in Malibu. And now you don't like my body?"

I watch as he swallows and his eyes flare, but he stifles it.

"Man, you can dish it but you can't take it, can you?" I tease before disappearing into the bathroom to change into normal clothes.

When I reappear, he's scratching the back of his head awkwardly, the muscles on his triceps showing under his t shirt sleeves. "So, speaking of that..."

As soon as he starts, my stomach tightens and my heart drops. There's that tone. The one that says 'hey it's not you, it's me' or 'it's not that I don't like you, it's just...'.

I frown, turning away from him again to grab my phone from the night stand as a means of seeming busy and okay.

"Of what?" I ask, acting clueless.

"Of...earlier...us, kissing..." he stumbles.

"Tongue tied, are we?" I mutter, trying to keep my spirits up as I put my hair up and sit on the edge of the bed.

"And yet nothing like before," he nervously laughs. "I just..." he trails off with a frustrated huff. "Look, we're friends, right?" he offers, sitting next to me in a hurry.

"Friends who make out," I correct.

He cracks his jaw, obviously knowing I'm not gonna follow unless he speaks. I watch impatiently, waiting for whatever he's thinking to come out.

"Right, well I was thinking...that maybe we should be friends who just...hang out, and...not do that..."

I can't really process that so I'm dumbly left staring at him, blinking as my stomach does flips. The anxiety is already creeping back in. I try to steady my breathing...go back to the day in the alley where things weren't complicated with him, but just with everyone else. I really don't want to have another panic attack over something stupid right now.

"Breathe," he instructs, sensing my mood shift, and I nod, trying to do so. "I'm gonna be blunt, okay? I think you're great. I really do. But you just broke up with your boyfriend four days ago, Rachel. And I know how it is to fight an addiction. And...well, everything I said earlier. We'd never be together, never get to talk..."

To my surprise, I'm not really sad and I don't feel like crying or running out or...whatever someone normal would do in this situation. Instead, as I steady my breaths, I decide to play him at his own game.

"It was just a kiss, Robert. Not a wedding."

He blinks, caught off guard, and nods slowly. "Right... So, we're cool, then? We can just pretend that part didn't happen?"

"What part?" I ask with a fake smile, then push myself up and finish stuffing things into my bag before slinging it over my shoulder.

"Yeah...okay. Good," he stammers, regaining his composure as he follows suit. "So let's uh...grab some food on the way and we'll have dinner on the plane?" he asks, then quickly adds, "as friends?"

"Friends," I agree. "Good."

But it's not good. The car ride is awkward as hell and I don't know what to do. He's expecting me to just forget about our kiss, but it was so far from just a kiss. I guess, in a way, it's okay, because the tension outside of the weird silence has dissipated, and we are soft of actually behaving better than before. I mean...I'm honestly not even aware of the movie star in him anymore. Just him, just the person I've been sharing a long weekend with. I don't know when that happened, but I definitely got used to being around him, regardless of what happened today.

Once we're on the plane, I sit at the table and eat in silence while he chats with Jimmy up front. I don't want to say goodbye, but after that conversation, it makes sense.

Then my phone buzzes, and I take the distraction, welcoming Devin's link that she sends. When I open it, it's a review of the red carpet photos from the night before. I sift through them, chuckling slightly at my face next to Jimmy in the background of one with Robert, and then I make it past some of Jude and some of the rest of the cast, until I land on the ones of Robert for the publicity part.

He looks good. Really good. And I knew he looked good then, but he even looks like a God in the photos. And I sigh, realizing that slight hope I had that night is now far gone. ...but at least I got to know how he kisses. Not a lot of people have gotten that, right? So I'll hold onto it.

"Damn, who's that sexy guy?" I hear.

I glance up as Downey slides into the seat next to me, getting a little close for comfort, his arm across the back of the booth as he leans in to see the photos on my phone. I blush shyly, trying to remember that we agreed to be friends, and I agreed not to be so reserved. So I hold my phone further between us, swiping through the photos slowly.

"Devin sent me a link from last night," I tell him, smirking at one where he's looking rather confident. "The camera likes you."

"Everyone likes me," he grins, then slowly lets it fade when I don't laugh. 

It's not on purpose, though...I just don't know what to say, so I keep swiping and ignore the comment. Until I get to one of me.

"Oh God, I look horrible," I mumble, embarrassed. 

But he swipes for me to look at the others, shaking his head as they get better. And then he lands on one of me as I looked over at him, admiring his features. 

"Miss Thomas, were you staring?" he grins, and I shove him slightly, in a joking manner.

Yeah, this will be okay, I think. We'll get past this fine.

I finally reach the end of the photos, then turn the phone off and set it down. "I guess they're not all bad..."

"Not bad at all, for your first carpet," he laughs.

"Thanks, I think," I grin back, sitting back against the window with my knees up to get out of the closeness we were in.

He must notice, because his gaze softens as the plane begins it's decent back into Pittsburgh. "You're gonna text me, right?" he asks with a smirk.

"Do I have to?" I toss back, raising an eyebrow, which makes him give me a confused expression.

"Well, no, but-"

"Now who's fun to fuck with?" I ask, grinning ear to ear. "Yes, of course...as long as you don't get sick of me."

"Good," he agrees. "And any time you need me. For...you know."

I nod, feeling slightly guilty because I already caved once on the Vicodin and didn't tell him.

"I quite enjoyed your company this weekend," he adds, back in a Sherlock accent. 

"It was unbelievable," I nod, standing once the plane touches down and we slowly taxi to the drop off point. "Seriously."

"Well, try to spend the rest of your night relaxing, please. I have a car ready to take you back. I'm needed in Los Angeles again, so we're just fueling up and heading out. ...you gonna be okay at home?" he asks after a moment. "You know, with Charlie, and..."

"Yeah," I confirm with a smile, and he stands as well. "Yeah, Devin knows, and I think things will start to get better now... You were right."

He fake gasps, hand to his chest over his heart. "I'm sorry, say that a little louder?"

I only roll my eyes in return, grabbing my bag from the seat near me, and the door to the jet opens. I'm not really sure what to do, so when Robert lets his shoulders drop and leans in for a hug, I gladly hug back, holding on a little while with my chin over his shoulder.

"See ya, Downey," I whisper into his ear, and he kisses my cheek once when we part, leaving me blushing again.

"Robert," he corrects, and there's a sparkle in his eye.

"Robert," I smirk, then say goodbye to Jimmy and I'm stepping off the plane, walking straight into the car.

I don't look back; I hate goodbyes, I hate ending trips, and I would not be okay ending this one by crying like an over emotional idiot...because, yes, I do that every time I get placed back in this city.

And...that's it. For a little while anyway. I made it home okay, and was oddly thankful when I realized all of Charlie's stuff seemingly moved out while I wasn't there. I should really change the locks, though...I'll make an appointment tomorrow. Devin dropped off Aero with a pizza. Despite the food I had on the plane, I was way too happy about that. She stayed over since we got stuck chatting about the trip until pretty late.

The next day I'm exhausted and dreading work, but I make it there, and of course, when I walk in, there were a ton of eyes on me. No one speaks, which makes it more awkward. So, I sit down at my desk and take off my coat...which I noticed this morning was still Robert's coat that he left with me. To be honest...I smiled a little at that thought, even if we haven't talked since the night before.

"Where's the Marshmallow?" May asks finally, peeking around her desk.

I hang it up and sit down, shrugging as my face lights up. "Traded it."

She smirks, and I know there's a million questions she's going to ask eventually, but for now, all she gives me is "a gentleman always gives his girl his jacket."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I breathe.

And then she nods to the space beside my computer monitors on my desk and I spin in my chair, looking at them. Next to the one of our dance that they had put up prior to the trip, there's a photo from the reel we were looking at last night. The one where we're both looking at the camera, Robert's arm around my waist. I smile slightly, knowing they mean well, even if they don't know the extent of that night.

Closing my eyes, I let the bittersweet memory come in as I relive the next morning. I wish I knew what I had said to him or how that first kiss went from my point of view, but maybe it's better I have no idea.

And for some reason, I get weirdly emotional anyway and go for my phone before my shift starts, opening a new message to Robert.

R: Thank you so, so much for everything...and sorry again. I had the best time, and I definitely didn't deserve any of it. Hope you made it home okay.

And I send it, then go back to revisit Devin's link. I download the photos, then use the same one they placed on my desk and go to Twitter to post it, captioning it with So nice hanging out with new friends. This weekend was surreal!

I tag him, then shut down and try to remove that kiss from my mind for the rest of the day.


	17. Chapter 17

So, I guess I'll fast forward you through a lot of boring shit. Like, four months of boring shit.

I did have dinner with my mom that week I returned and told her all about the song we recorded. She was heavily jealous, as expected, and demanded I introduce her to Sting, but I told her I can't really do that. Maybe I can pull some strings with Robert, though, but... Well, he and I haven't really talked, honestly.

It's not really anyone's fault, I guess... He's gone a little MIA on social media, and he only responded to my text once.

TS: Made it home, now back to work. :(

I guess I should've said something back, but I really wasn't sure what... Eventually, there were a few texts, just some short back and forth that left me discouraged.

TS: Plans for NYE?

R: spending the week with Devin, you?

TS: Party with my family and Jimmy, nothing big this year. Too bad you won't be near LA.

R: sounds fun...can't even imagine a big Hollywood party like that

TS: Not too over the top...just some friends and family. Wish me luck!

R: luck? like you need it

TS: Duh. Gotta get that NYE kiss!

A part of me died at that, but I tried to play it off.

R: you're rdj, you'll be fine

I spent the next three weeks focusing on work, working the days away until I got a small vacation for a week over Christmas. My mother is Jewish, so we don't do much around Christmas, but her family celebrates both, so I always grew up with the presents and the tree. And so did Devin, thus her fascination with decorating my home. Her family, however, goes a little overboard, and instead of the usual family dinner, they book a cruise until New Year's. This year, I'm invited. Not sure if it's pity or whatever, but I'll take it. I need a break.

Turns out...cruises? Not so much my thing. I get majorly sea sick. Which left me either laying on a lounge chair on the deck looking at the sky, or in the bathroom, hovering over the toilet bowl as I try to keep it down. There's no cell service, either, so I'm at a loss for the week. Still...Devin enjoyed herself, so that's all that matters.

Little funny side story: one night at dinner, when I was feeling well enough to stay in the dining room with the group, I was approached for the first time. Scared the shit out of me. A younger girl recognized me as Robert's date to the premiere...sadly not about the song or any of my performances, but...oh well, I'll take it. We took a photo, and I sat wide eyed the rest of the night, in awe that that just happened.

When we made shore and I kissed the ground, my messages started flooding my phone, including a voicemail from an unknown number.

 _Miss Thomas - it's Gordon. Or, uh...Sting. Hey, I got your contact information from Robert, so I hope you're not bothered by my call. I wanted to extend an invitation to you, though. I've sent a letter to your home address, read it over when you have a moment. I'm going to be doing a show in LA in the spring and I need an opener, and Robert thought you might fit the bill with the song being re released._

I nearly pass out hearing that. An opener?! To an actual concert?! To a freaking music superstar?! Holy shit.

I barely contain my excitement on the drive home. My mother picks me up from the airport, and knows something's up, but I decide to play it off and wait to surprise her when I read it myself. She's been staying with the cat, though, dog included, and I'm wondering why she hasn't commented on it. Until...

"You got a package the other day," she says casually as she parks the car in the driveway.

"Thanks," I answer, grabbing my bags and heading toward the front door.

When I go in, it's sitting on the kitchen counter, so I drop my bags at the bedroom door, say hello to the dog running circles around my living room before my mom takes her out, and then hug the cat, setting him on the counter as well before opening the brown box. It's not quite what I expected for a letter; it's big and square and I'm a little worried. So, I grab a box cutter and open the packaging, revealing a couple of loosely wrapped items inside. They look professionally done, but I guess that's what happens when Sting sends you presents.

I open the flat square one first, just as my mom returns, and reveal the single CD for the song we recorded, my name at the bottom next to Robert's as a feature.

"Oh my God," my mom breathes, grinning widely as she peeks over my shoulder. "That's your name!"

I blink, unable to process. People are going to see this. Actual people. People in stores, and at record labels, and on song charts and radio stations, maybe, and...

"Holy fuck..."

"Language, Rachel," she scolds, and I roll my eyes. "I can't believe you did it! I'm taking this around to show everyone!"

I let her inspect it as she grabs it from my hand, then turn back to the box. There's a thick envelope, probably with the proposal he was mentioning in the voicemail, a smaller box, and a larger wrapped package, soft under the tissue paper its enclosed in. I tear the wrapping on the big gift delicately, not wanting to ruin something so pretty, and reveal a folded pile of black fabric. Confused, I try to find the top and hold it up in front of me, revealing the same black dress I wore to the Sherlock premiere in New York. And, bonus: there's a note attached to the front, hand written.

_You looked too good in it to let it go to waste. Thought you might like to reuse it... Happy holidays. -RDJ_

Sighing, I place it on the counter, my mom's eyes wide and watching in silence. She takes the note and scans it, hand on her heart.

I ignore it and go for the smaller box, rectangular in size, and peel the paper back. I carefully lift the lid, nearly scared to find out what it could possibly be, and then I catch a breath.

"What the hell..." I whisper, pulling out the ticket inside: a plane ticket.

"Is that a fucking plane ticket?!" my mother nearly screams and I nod. 

She and Devin are quite similar, though they don't see it. But I can completely see Devin having the same reaction to something like this.

"For where?!"

I scan it, tilting my head in confusion when I see the destination...Atlanta, Georgia. Why Atlanta?"

"Georgia?" my mom asks, clearly just as confused as I am.

"Yeah, apparently..." I murmur, thinking. "Give me a minute..."

She watches intently as I leave the room with the ticket and my phone, but eventually goes to open the letter that's left. I quickly dial Robert's number, heart thumping. We haven't talked since...well, since the day we kissed. And it's been a very long month since then.

And then he picks up.

"Long time no talk."

I skip the formal intros and go straight to the point. "Are you flying me to Atlanta?"

"Oh, so you did get my gift," he teases.

"I just got home... I was on a boat, remember?"

"World traveler, are we?"

"Uh, not usually... Why Atlanta?" I squint, looking at the date on the ticket. "This isn't even until April!"

"So?"

"It's December!"

"January now," he laughs. "Did you have plans already? So early in the year?"

"No..." I mutter, defeated. "Just my birthday in February, but that's it..."

"Wait, your birthday is coming up? What day?" he asks, interested more in that.

I blink, stunned. "The...twenty first...wait, you never answered my question!"

He only chuckles and I sigh, sitting on my bed after I've strayed away from my mother. 

"Well, ironically, April is my birthday-"

"I know."

"-and I'll be working on a fun little project that may or may not require my talent as Tony Stark, and-"

"You're 'talent'?" I snort in amusement at how full of himself he can be.

"-I thought, why not have you visit the set?" he finishes, then hurries into, "I'm sorry, should I cancel the reservation?"

"You want me to visit the Iron Man set?!" I nearly scream, my mom calling my name from the other room to make sure I'm okay. "Seriously?!"

"And the fan girl finally shows herself," he jokes. "It's my birthday and we'll have a party, I'm sure. And I haven't seen you in a month, nor have we talked. Is it fair to say I miss you?"

My heart flutters and I can't help but smile, biting my lip at the thought of doing something I haven't gotten to but have always dreamt of...you know, besides, like, kissing Robert Downey Jr, but...

"Rachel?"

"Yeah?" I ask, oblivious to the fact that I've been silent.

"So is that a yes?"

"Um..yeah, yeah, I can figure it out, I think."

"Good," he answers easily and I can tell he's smiling. "So are you doing okay? I've barely heard from you."

"I'm...yes," I settle on, then sigh. "Charlie's been gone since New York. I mean...I miss him sometimes, I think, but..."

"Are you happy?"

"Yes." I am. "Thank you...for helping."

"Just make sure you call me if you have a rough day, okay? No pill popping."

I sigh, knowing he's right. But I've definitely taken them since. At first I needed it...it felt too lonely at night. No one to talk to besides Devin. Even though Charlie wasn't really one to talk to anyway, it was still some kind of social interaction besides the over reactions of her or my mother. I should've texted him or called or... But every time we talked, I got too jealous, and that was a problem.

"You get that New Year's Eve kiss?" I ask suddenly, that bit of jealousy coming out.

I immediately hate myself for asking, because my stomach's doing turns and I really don't want to know the answer to that question. His hesitation doesn't make it any better.

"Thought I'd start the year off a little different," he answers slowly after a small pause. "Maybe next year."

Why does that make me happy? No freaking clue. But it does. And it makes the next couple of months fly by, too.

I had my mom open and read the letter out loud while I cooked up something for dinner, having her stay over to chat after being gone for a week. The show was a night in May in LA and I'd have to work on original material...but I've had some songs saved up my sleeve that I promised to fix up and run by her before the concert. Either she or Devin would go with me, of course, depending on their work situations. There was an email enclosed, so I signed the agreement and scanned it back to Sting, waiting patiently for a reply. Eventually, everything was put through and I added it to my calendar. That was officially the beginning of something new. Something Charlie would never let me have.

A bigger surprise? The fact that Valentine's Day came around, and the next morning photos of Robert with a brunette in Los Angeles surfaced. Ironic? I have no idea. But I didn't hear from him that day, even though I half hoped I would have. It's a dumb holiday, anyway... A Hallmark holiday, made to bring money in from people in relationships. I shouldn't like him like that anymore anyway, right? 

But, the even bigger surprise (how many times can I say that?) came the following week, when I got a notification on my phone while I was at work. On the twenty first.

@RobertDowneyJr Happy birthday to this beautiful talent. So glad to know you - have the best day!

Attached is a photo of us from the premiere, and instantly, my notifications start exploding. We haven't even talked since that day I returned. Nearly two months!

I reply, nervously trying to steady my shaking hands. @Rachel_Thomas you're the best! thank you!

Well, that started a conversation, because that night, he started texting me again, out of no where.

TS: I know. ;)

R: what??

TS: You said I'm the best. So I'm telling you I know.

R: ...seriously?

TS: Have a good birthday?

R: quiet, but good.

TS: Next up, Atlanta! I'm headed down soon for table reads.

And it was quiet for a week or two, until mid March when he sent me a selfie of he and Gwyneth. So there was that. I had no clue how to respond. I adore that woman too much and Pepper's always been my favorite, but I didn't want to sound crazy, so I replied with a simple "cute" and that was it. He started sending random photos of things; his meals, his trailer, just...him. So I sent a few back, but was way too nervous to send them of myself. No idea why; maybe it's just part of me still not okay with myself...maybe also partly because the nightly routine of Vicodin hasn't kicked and I promised him I'd stop. At least it's still just one...

Anyway...over the last few weeks of March, we chatted regularly through text. Not often, as he started to get busy with work, but a few a day. Stupid, fun things. I do remember discussing his diet on one photo of a meal, and what I try to eat. There was talk about his workout plan, but it was mostly muscle building. Mine, on the other hand, is jogging outside of meditation. He still pestered me about doing yoga with him.

So, we know the basics about each other at this point, I guess. It's easier for me, though. I know mostly everything there is to know about him just from a fan's standpoint. But he knew nothing about me, so sometimes it feels like an interview...but at least it's easy to talk to him now. I think it's the phone. When I'm not face to face with someone, it's easier to open up. I swear I'm more confident that way. So I hope it transposes, because come the end of March, I'm restlessly tapping my hand all day at work and staring at the clock, counting down the days until I actually get to be on a movie set.

Devin absolutely begged me to take her, but I can't do that to him. He already explained all the waivers and shit I'd have to sign for confidentiality, so I know he's going out of his way to invite me. Plus, Devin, on his birthday? I'm confused enough that he wants me there.

There, here...yeah. So that leads me to now, tidying myself up in the mirror of the Atlanta airport's bathroom, feeling sick to my stomach about having to see him again, but not in a bad way. I'm excited. Nervous. Freaking out a little that I finally get to meet and talk to all of my favorite people and the actors I've looked up to. How the hell is this my life?!

I finally push myself out of the bathroom and carry my duffel bag down the hall, trying to steady my breathing. I have no idea if he's picking me up or where to go or...

When I head down the escalators and around the corner, I approach baggage claim and pull out my phone, not sure what to do. Do I text him? Call him?

But then I see it; a driver, holding a sign with my name on it. Like the movies. What the hell, is everything this glamorous with him?! I sigh, and approach the man.

"Hi, I'm Rachel..." I say awkwardly, shifting the bag over my shoulder.

He inspects something on the back of the sheet, I'm guessing my photo, and nods, smiling finally. "Happy to have you. Ready to go?"

"Yeah. No bags, just this," I answer kindly.

He leads me out to the town cars waiting outside and holds the door to the back of one open, and I board. It's a little weird, I guess. I mean, I'm literally just trusting this guy. Anyone could've just been standing there with a sign, but whatever. I trust Robert. 

When we start moving, I decide to text him. 

R: made it...I hope this is actually your drive and I'm not being kidnapped lol

But the whole drive to the hotel, there's no response.

When we arrive, I frown, noting how fancy it looks. It's definitely nothing I can afford.

"Sorry..." I start, leaning forward toward the front seat. "Can we uh...maybe find something a little cheaper? My wallet definitely isn't roomy enough for this, and-"

"Mr Downey has a room reserved for you," he answers with a smile, then exits to open my door for me and let me out.

"Thanks..."

I exit, looking around in awe. It's definitely fancy. Not too over the top but way out of my prince range. Similar to New York.

The warm air is my friend as it graces my skin; it's still a little chilly in Pittsburgh, being the very beginning of spring, so the southern temperatures are nice. Even if it's humid...

"I'll be back to pick you up in the morning. Ten o'clock," the driver informs me and I agree, nodding, and then thank him for bringing me.

Then, I'm carrying my things inside, and like he said, there's a room reserved for me under my name. It's not even just a room, it's a suite. Like a fucking king sized bed, kitchen, living room... Everything. Way up on the top floor, overlooking the city.

I flick on the lights and drop my bag at the door when I make it up there, then lock the door behind me for the night. I wander over toward the window and look out; the airport is visible in the distance, and the city lights shine brightly. It's a beautiful view, and I'm honestly breathless as I look out over the night sky. And finally, I relax. I'm not panicked. Or nervous. It reminds me a lot of New York. And finally, just at the end of New York, I was comfortable.

Deciding I'm a little too tired and just want to jump on the giant bed, I wander toward the bedroom and take off my light jacket from the flight, tossing it on the chair in the corner of the space. I'll unpack later...it's only another long weekend, but a good five days off, so I'm going to get comfortable here.

I melt into the mattress, laying my head on the pillow and looking up at the ceiling, sighing. The bed's just as comfortable as it looks. I turn my head to the side, glancing at the wall, which has a window similar to that of the living room space. And then my eyes fall on the nightstand, where a folded up piece of paper stands as a tent.

I look at it with confusion, then push myself back up and go to check it out. It's the same handwriting as the note left on my dress from the Christmas gift.

_Sorry I couldn't pick you up. Late night shoot. See you in the morning. - RDJ_

Well, that explains why he didn't answer his texts. And that also explains why I'm suddenly nervous as fuck to see him again. Shit. The butterflies are already starting... But I can't let them get to me. I gotta shove this crush out of my mind and focus on him as the friend. Sure, we got along via text and phone call for the last few months, but now, in person... We're friends. That's it.

Yet, the memories of the last hotel room I was in flood back and I groan, running my hands over my face. I don't want to do it, but I don't think I can sleep if I don't. So, I head to my door, where I left my bags, and dig for that familiar pill bottle...the only thing that will calm these insane nerves right now.

Four months. I haven't seen him in four months.

Is it weird that I don't even freak out about who he is anymore? Now it's all just over this stupid little crush I hate to love.

I guess I'll see how long I can hide it.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is terrible...I'm pretty sick right now so I may not have done the best job here. :(

I wake up early the next morning, setting an alarm and hanging some clothes up before knocking out the night of.  I'm still not a morning person, but today, I'm too nervous about seeing Robert again to sleep in.  It's been months and even though we've talked, I haven't seen his face and have only heard his voice a few times.

I utilized the shower, then took an overwhelming amount of time putting on makeup that I don't usually wear.  Everything I brought to wear is pretty up scale, too, so I don't look like complete trash next to him and the other Gods that will be on set.  Oh God...I'm actually going to get to be on a Marvel set...

This is insane.

By the time I finish up, I grab my bag and wander down to the main lobby, stopping at the breakfast buffet to grab an apple on the way outside.  It's three till ten, and the car's supposed to be here at ten.  Do I wait outside?  Should I text him?  There's no messages on my phone yet...

When I wander outside, there's a black town car waiting, and I'm pretty sure I don't need to ask who it is.  Still, I shrug the bag over my shoulder and force a nervous smile as the window rolls down and leaning over is the man himself, behind dark sunglasses that block his eyes.  He's smirking, that devilish little smirk that I fell for in New York, and God, did I forget how handsome he is.  But no, stop, Rachel.  You're just friends.  He's not interested, he made that clear, and you agreed.

"Hi," he grins sweetly, a tone similar to that of the deleted scene in Iron Man 2.

"Hey..." I breathe, eyes scanning his beautiful face.

"You gonna get in?" he laughs.

I immediately go for the door, sliding in quickly before anyone notices who he is, and then the window's rolling up again.  The car starts moving and before I can put on a seat belt, he's sliding over on the dark leather seats, wrapping his around around my torso.  I turn awkwardly, returning the hug, and then he kisses my cheek just as he did when I left the plane in December.  He smells the same; whatever soap he uses, mixed with mint and stale cigarette...and it is beyond delicious.

"I didn't know you were coming," I admit quietly.

"Another night shoot.  I have an open day for you," he comments, moving back to his side.  "Did you have a good night?"

I nod, hands clasping together in my lap uncomfortably.  "Yeah...yeah, it's so high class...  Really, you shouldn't have-"

"Rachel, don't start this again, please?" he interrupts, frowning, and whips off his sunglasses. 

My breath catches; his chocolate eyes sparkle with mischief. 

"Start what?"

"You know what," he teases, and I sigh.

"Okay...  Sorry, I'm just...  It's been a while."

"It has," he agrees, leaning back against the window and resting his leg over his other knee. "You changed your hair."

I suddenly find myself pulling at it, noting the bangs I had cut and the lighter caramel tone it now holds.  I forgot to mention that, I guess.  Around my birthday I decided I needed a change...and I guess I haven't really posted much of myself since then.  Or sent him anything.

"You...look the same," I comment, and after a moment, my lips tug up in a smile and I feel myself start to relax.

All these nerves for nothing.  Sure, it's a little awkward for me, but he isn't acting like that.  It's kinda like Tony and Pepper, I guess.  You know, after she tried to kiss him? He let that go and went on living life.  And they were fine.  Like we are.

He laughs and taps his fingers on the leather seats, thinking.  "So, I thought we could do lunch.  Then I'm just going to have you stop by legal and sign a few things, then I'll show you around the set.  We're shooting some of the early scenes this week...lots of destruction and I'll get to use the suit, so you'll appreciate that," he chuckles.  "You can watch me shoot tonight...and tomorrow morning, before the party.  The last three days are kinda up in the air but I think I have a few on location spots to hit, then I'm all yours."

I blush at that but try to play it off.  All mine.  Sure.

"I'm sure you'll be content watching, though, right?" he follows up and I smile politely.

"Of course.  Just don't kill me if I fan girl a little bit..."

"Oh, I expect it."

"Of course you do..."  Then, I furrow my brow, wondering why I'm even here in the first place.  "So...why exactly am I here again?"

He tilts his head, obviously confused.  "I told you I missed you."

"Yeah, but...  It seems like a lot to go through just to have me visit," I point out, and he shrugs.

"I have buddies visit me all the time," he answers casually.  "Gets a little boring on my days off to be completely honest.  Usually wind up training or sticking my nose into the writer's room."

"Training?" I question.

"Wing chun," he grins.  "Ever try it?"

 I shake my head, so he continues.

"Maybe I'll show you at the party or something.  If you want."

"Sure," I smirk back, feeling a little more confident and a little more casual, like we've been over text the last few weeks.  "If you're up for it, old man."

He gasps, hand over his heart in poor acting.  "I'm not old!"

"Forty eight?" I ask.

"Not till tomorrow!"

"You're getting up there grandpa."

His eyes narrow in a playful gesture.  "Keep it up, Thomas."

"Or what?" I push, biting my lip to hold my smile in.  

He leans forward, chin on his hand.  "Or I'll prove to you that's not the case."

"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?" I snort.  "You can't reverse age."

"You'll find out later this weekend."

I can't respond; he has me flustered, and he knows it.  I can't tell if he's joking or not, but surely, he has to be.  Why would he change his mind?  He hasn't.  So he's just messing with me.

"So," he muses, "how's that thing with the guy at work?"

"Uh..."  I turn and let my gaze wander out the window, looking at the small town buildings we've since driven into.  "He quit."

"Is that so?"

"It is."

Thank God the car stops soon after that, because I don't want to keep talking about that.  He must know I'm lying about that.  It's pretty obvious.  I told him he was the one I had the crush on, so hasn't he put two and two together?

"So, lunch?  We can walk downtown, stop by the offices," he offers. 

I agree, and the door opens on my side to let us out, Downey close behind.  His hand finds the small of my back, as it usually does, and then he's leading me toward the inside of the sidewalk and to a small deli type shop a few steps down the block.

"Anything you're craving?" he asks, wandering up to the counter.

"I'll get my own," I insist immediately.

"Oh, you still think you have a choice..." he states, blinking, then turns toward the register.

The person behind it greets him as if he's been there before, and I imagine he has, if they film here all the time.  I glance at the menu, telling him to double whatever he's getting, because I assume it'll be something healthy.  I'm not wrong; it's just a salad, grilled chicken for protein...  Actually one of my favorites, so it doesn't bother me.  He grabs some ice tea as well, then takes to a back table, out of plain view from the front windows, sunglasses back on his face.

"So you wanna know the plot?" he asks, grinning over at me as he takes a sip of his drink.

"Of the movie?" I ask dumbly, which makes him laugh.

"Duh."

I kick him under the table lightly, and he jumps. 

"Hey!  Aggressive, still..."

"Can I know the scene without spoiling it?" I ask, ignoring his snarky comment.

He twists his lips, thinking, then nods.  "Tony's house gets destroyed by a terrorist and Pepper wears the suit."

"Really?!" I nearly yell, and he quickly laughs and tells me to hush as to not draw attention to us.  "I've been wanting her to do that for ages!"

"Oh my God, you like Pepper more than Tony, don't you?" he asks, shocked.

I sheepishly shrug, silently confirming his suspicions.

"I'll make sure to introduce you to Gwyneth, then," he goes on.  "She'll love you."

"Gwy-wait, they're all here?" I gulp, suddenly nervous again as I pause chewing a mouthful of lettuce.

"Well, yeah...we're kinda working on a movie, did I not mention that?" 

He raises an eyebrow behind the glasses in question, but my mind's elsewhere.  I pause, dropping the focus of the conversation, and realize there's something extremely familiar playing over the store's speakers.  The song I recorded - we recorded.  The single that they gifted me over the holidays.  It wasn't due to hit shelves yet....was it?

"Oh my God..." I mumble, and he doesn't notice I've changed subjects.

"Are you really that panicked about meeting her?"

"No," I hush, waving my hand in the air.  "No, do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

And then he listens, his hands holding the fork under his chin as he waits.  And then he grins, showing his perfect teeth, and sits back in his chair.

"Oh, must've forgot to mention that.  They released it last week."

"Released?" I croak.  "As in-"

"Playing it on the radio, yeah.  Oh, and you get like .02 cents a play, too.  You'll get a check at the end of the month."

"Wait, they...I get paid for this?!" 

He frowns.  "Didn't you read Gordon's offer?"

"For the show next month?" I ask.  "Yeah.  But-"

"Yeah, you get paid for that too."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I ask, elated.  "Someone actually wants to pay me for my singing?!"

"I've told you before you're good," he answers. 

"You don't understand," I nearly cry, dropping my fork.  "I've never been on the radio.  Or like anything.  Not even Spotify or Pandora or anything...."

"Okay."   Then he drops his fork and tosses his napkin on the table and moves out of his seat, coming to sit on my side of the table.  "Move over," he laughs.

"What?!  There's only one chair!"

I glance down, watching as he swats at my hip, and drop my own utensil with a mouth full of salad.

"So share," he says as if it's common knowledge.

I scoot over, blushing at the feeling of his side against mine.  His arm presses against my shoulder, and he leans in.  With his other hand, he holds out his phone, Instagram up and ready to go.

"What are you doing?" I ask, staring at it like a deer in headlights.

 "Documenting this very rare occasion that you're happy about something," he smirks, and then presses the record button.  "We are...eating lunch," he starts, picking his words carefully.  "And Rachel, what's on the radio?"

Even with his closeness, this isn't too awkward, and my excitement wins.  I can't help but giggle, biting my tongue as I turn toward him. 

"The song we recorded," I grin. 

He looks back, smiling with pressed lips, and I swear there's a moments hesitation as his eyes flicker dark and scan mine, but then he pulls himself out of it and turns back to his phone.

"Go check it out if you haven't yet.  I'll link it on my bio."

Then he goes to post it and I watch as he types a caption.  

@RobertDowneyJr First time @Rachel_Thomas heard herself on the radio! :D 

"They're gonna know we're here," I warn, but he shrugs.  

"They always find me eventually."

I spend the rest of lunch looking at my phone and the comments on his post once he moves back to his seat.  My mind's swarming with thoughts, most about how close we just were and how I very much so enjoyed the warmth of his body next to mine, but I can't focus on them at all.  Honestly...the comments don't help.  There's a ton about the song itself, but most are about Robert.  And then there's a couple who also want to know what the hell that content smile that he flashed me was, and a few stating we look good together.

I laugh nervously in my head.  People seriously think we could date?  Not a chance in hell.

Eventually, we finish up, and then he walks me down the street and we enter a legal building, and I'm asked to sign a few forms agreeing to confidentiality and whatever.  Basically so I'm legally bound not to spoil anything.  And that's fine, I don't want to anyway.  Robert's treated like a king, but what else is new?  There's even posters of him as Tony Stark (and the other Avengers) lining the walls down one hallway, which has me doing a double take between him and the poster.

"It's so creepy," I say when he laughs and shakes his head in question.  "It's you, but you're there, and..."

"This?" he asks, amused.  "You've hung out with me how many times, and this..this one poster, is what creeps you out?"

He has a point.  There's billboards and displays and t shirts...and everything.  Yet I'm only now starting to freak out about it.

"Maybe it's just cause we're here.  Like, I'm going to be at Tony's house," I admit shyly.  "It's all kinda real now."

I spend the next maybe twenty minutes in the car telling him how nervous I am about the show in LA, and then he goes on about the acrobatics he's going to have to do on set that night.  Something about being in the air and having half the Iron Man suit on and I can't follow it but I'm beyond excited to see him in action.

When we make it to the set, it reminds me a lot of the Warner Brothers lot in California; I toured it once when I was younger.  There's a gate and all he has to do is flash a smile from the back.  The car's probably allowed to enter whenever, it must be registered.

"So, I added your name to the list.  In case you want to come and go as you please," he tells me, uncrossing his legs.  "Just make sure you have your ID cause I won't be able to leave set if I'm shooting."

"Okay," I agree.  "Anything else I need to know?"

He smirks as the car turns and then slows to a stop in front of several buildings that resemble warehouses, but are probably full of different movie sets and prop storage.

"Anything you need, ask the crew or Jimmy.  And just don't touch anything important and stand back with him when they're filming."

"Got it, so make sure I play with everything and stand in front of the cameras," I recape, and he laughs, for once geniune.

"Perfect."

Once my door opens, I feel the nerves hitting again, and then I watch as Robert takes his sunglasses off and stuffs them in his shirt pocket.  I follow him inside one of the buildings  which has a giant green screen and some furniture...Tony's house...standing in the dark in the back.  They aren't shooting yet, but the crew is working to set up whatever it may be that will go off that night.

"Downey's back!" someone yells from the back, and then a couple guys are coming up to grab his hand and pull him in for a quick hello, patting his back.

"I think a few of em didn't hear you," Robert jokes with a grin.

"All set for later?" the younger kid asks.

"Always."

"Hey man," I hear, and then Jimmy's wandering over and doing the same.  Then, he turns to me.  "Hey, Pittsburgh."

"Playoffs start soon," I answer, and he gives me a hug.

"I'll come in for the cup and we're going," he decides.

Honestly?  I'd love that.  I've never gone to a playoff game.  It would be an absolute dream.

"It's a date," I agree with humor, but that does not go over well with Robert.

His hand lands on the small of my back, and then he's leading me out through a doorway and into the parking lot again.

"Jealous, are we?" I ask, bold now that I'm more comfortable actually knowing people here.

He doesn't answer, but his jaw tenses and I'm pretty sure he's blushing, caught in the action.  I can see him being a really over protective boyfriend.  I wonder if that's why he's single.  Clingy?  Eh, he doesn't seem that bad.  Just jealous.  Definitely jealous.

Then we're heading toward a group of white trailers, and we pass quite a few labeled for Tony Stark.

"You have more than one?"

He shrugs.  "One for makeup and hair, one for wardrobe, one for the bedroom," he grins, and I shove him lightly as we approach the last.  "I meant for sleeping when I don't have time to go home.  Relax.  Now who's jealous?"

"Me?" I huff.  "Never.  You can have as much sex as you want here, I just don't need to know about it."

He chuckles, knowing he has me.  I definitely feel warm, red spreading to my face, but I have to play it off as joking.  Again, that's what we agreed on.  Just friends.  But there's a very big part of me that's wondering how he is in bed now that I've brought it up.  A very big part...ugh.

"And here we are," he changes the subject, knocking in the door of the last trailer.  "Decent?"

"Would it really stop you?" is called back, and he grins ear to ear before opening the door and stepping up. 

"You know me so well.  But uh, hey, we have company."

I follow him up while reading the sign on the side: Pepper Potts.  My heart skips as I try to figure out what the hell to say to her but I can't think of anything right now.

But there she is, in the makeup chair, with a hair cap on while someone grooms her eyebrows into shape.  She's gorgeous.  Even mid makeup.

"You must be Rachel," she greets, voice soft and delicate.  "I'd come say hi but I don't think I'm allowed up right now."

"You know you don't have to hug me every time you see me," Robert teases, hands in his pockets as he leans against the counter.

She grunts and rolls her eyes, then smiles back at me through the mirror.  "Don't mind him.  He's got an ego bigger than Tony's sometimes, I swear."

"I've noticed," I admit, grinning when he gives me a playful glare.  "I really hope this doesn't freak you out but I'm such a huge Pepper fan, and...I can't believe I'm actually here right now."

She laughs and shows her teeth in a warm smile.  "Not at all.  She doesn't get enough recognition for putting up with Robert's bullshit." Then, a pause.  "Tony, I mean Tony."

"I told you you're the same person!" I relay back to Robert, feeling accomplished.  "About time someone backs me up."

"God, this was a bad idea," he groans, hand on his face for effect.

Eventually, he's pulled off into makeup and wardrobe, himself.  I watch as they style his hair first, sort of like how they played with it for the premiere in New York, but it's just a little shorter now.  They touch up his beard and mustache, then add a little cover up for blemishes...  It's anazing how little makeup he needs, honestly.   Not that I think he would, but I've just always heard stories about them wearing extra for the cameras...

After that he's put into a body suit and they attach some little pieces to him, probably for CGI.  I take my chance to look him over when he's facing away from me, and man, does his behind look good in that thing.  It always does.  His abs are shown off, too, and those muscles in his biceps are definitely not hiding.  My mouth is watering and I can't help but stare.

No, Rachel.  Snap out of it.  Stop.

Then we're off to the warehouse again, where Gwyneth is holding a script rehearsing her lines to a crew member.  Her hair for Pepper is longer than usual and up over a white suit, and I love it.  Probably my favorite Pepper look so far.

"At least you were staring at my ass and not my package," Robert says into my ear as we wander in, scaring me half to death.

I blush instantly, not because I was caught, but because now I'm gonna have to try to divert my eyes so I definitely do not check him out.  Oh God...and the way he said it.  His 'package'.  Like it's a gift.

"I don't know what you're talking about..." I mumble.

Thankfully, they bring out the torsonof the suit next, and he puts it on over his head.  Then there's lots of attachments and pieces being strapped on, and he grins watching me ogle it.  I don't know how to react until they finally finish and he's able to walk freely.

"Wanna touch it?" he asks, knowing me too well.

"You said no touching," I reply, confused.

He shrugs.  "I say a lot of thingsm"

Then he's grabbing my hand with the cool plastic fingers and presses it against the arc.  I look in amazement, stunned that I'm actually in the presence of the actual Iron Man suit.

"It's more gold than the last one," I notice.

"They gave Tony a ton of em for this one.  You'll see."

Then a flash jumps me out of my trance and I turn to see Jimmy snapping a photo of us, smirking when he's caught red handed.

"Relax, just for your own collection, Rob," he confirms.  "I'll send you one, too," he adds, looking at me.

Robert laughs lightly, bringing my attention back to him, and drops my hand.

"Wanna go hang out with Jim? You can use my chair."

I do just that.  I'm lead to the sidelines, where Jimmy sits in a chair with his name in it.  Next to him is one that reads "Tony Stark" and I take it, my heart fluttering as I understand the reality of this.

"You doing okay?" Jim asks, and I nod, watching as Robert goes and inspects ths script in Gwyneth's hands.

"Yeah,"I breathe.  "This is just crazy to me.  I've been such a huge fan of this movie for so long..."

He smiles softly, then lets me focus on the set after snapping a quick photo of me in the chair for myself.  I can't pass that opportunity up!

They're filming something with Pepper and Tony in the full suit, but I guess they'll CGI that in later.  And let me tell you, as great of an actor as Robert is, they go late into the night, making sure each shot is perfect.  He gets a few breaks, removing the armor so he doesn't overheat.

At one point, he comes over to ask how it's looking from out side, though I'm sure it's perfect.  He's been looking at the playbacks, anyway, so I know it's just for my opinion.

"You and Gwyneth have such insane chemistry," I tell him sincerely.  "You could tell me you're dating her and I'd never question it."

He chuckles, shaking his head.  "She's got kids, a family.  But she has so much talent...I do love working with her."

"I can tell," I hum, chin in my hands.

"You okay watching?  I can have someone take you back if you're bored."

"Bored?" I ask.  "Of this?!  Never."

And he proves a good show.  Later on he does a couple shots where he changes the wording to his own liking, improvising on the spot.  And you can clearly see how focused he is and just how dedicated he is to Tony.  It's crazy to see him action.

The scene doesn't give away much, but it's still incredible to see.  And about eleven thirty they call it quits, and he's being undressed and we're walking back to the wardrobe trailer, where they dab the makeup off his face and he unsuits, tossing on a hoodie and a pair of loose fitting pants and a beanie with matching high top shoes. Such a weird ass sense of style but I love it.

"Let's get you back, huh?" he asks. "I'm gonna head home for tonight. I'll pick you up on the way back in for the scenes in the morning if you'd like to watch."

I nod, excited, and then we're back in the car. He's exhausted, I can tell, but that's okay, so am I to be honest. I didn't do much but it's been a long day of a lot of exciting things.

"You really love being Tony, don't you?" I ask kindly after a few minutes of silence as he leans his head back and rests his eyes.

He peeks a glance at me, then sits back up, stretching. "I do. He's what saved me."

I let my shoulders relax and tilt my head in kindness. "You saved yourself."

"Yeah, but this role put me back on top. I don't know what I'd do without it. But I owe Jon a lot."

I hope I'm sensing the mood right because I just want to compliment him right now. He looks like he could use it.

"You have the most incredible skill for picking up dialog," I tell him. "You're so skilled. I knew you were, but seeing you at work..."

"Thank you," he smiles genuinely, looking over with kind eyes. "Guess he hits close to home, so it's easy to be in character."

"You're not now," I joke and he raises an eyebrow.

"How do you know?"

"You're not being an egotistical asshole," I joke. "And you're taking compliments without a snarky response."

He doesn't answer, just lets his lips tug up slightly as he looks out the window. Then, he tugs out his necklace from under his shirt and holds up the pendant I've seen in too many photos.

"You know what this is for?"

I shake my head, hesitating. I don't want to guess sobriety. I don't want to bring that up.

"Kinda a spiritual reminder. You know, to stay wholesome and shit... I don't know. Guess it's nice to be reminded that I have a lot to be thankful for," he explains. Then, he switches topics, but for good reason. "Which is why I wanted to help you. Not like a charity thing or anything, fuck that sounded bad," he laughs in disbelief. "How are you doing, by the way?"

"I'm not gonna lie," I sigh. "I've taken a couple."

"Better than too many," he nods. "We'll work on it."

Thank God he doesn't lecture me. He's probably too tired tonight.

"Can you do me one favor?" he asks gently when the car pulls back up tue hotel. "Just try something for me, if you don't want to tell me?"

"What?"

He smiles and drapes his arm over my shoulder, pulling me in for a kiss on the cheek as a goodbye.

"Don't take one tonight. Even if you can't sleep."

I swallow, not sure if I'm stuck on that or the kiss, but eventually nod. "Okay..."

"Good girl," he smiles, relaxed and sleepy. "I'll see you tomorrow."


	19. Chapter 19

I don't think I dreamed at all that night.  I don't think I really even slept at all that night.  My heart was racing a thousand beats a second when I finally left the car and made it to my hotel room.  I couldn't really release any info to Devin, part of the contracts I signed, so I couldn't even tell her much.  I did text her and tell her I'd explain it all when I got back, but I couldn't really risk someone finding out I texted her.  It sucks.

I tried taking a shower, hoping that would help me calm down, but the whole day kept replaying in my head.  Especially the parts with Robert.  His closeness at lunch.  The jealous little fit at the trailers...  I don't even want to check social media, because I'm certain my notifications are blowing up from his tag.

And then I'm plunging into the fact that I'm actually getting paid to have that song played.  For so many years, that's all I wanted.  And now it's happening.

I promised him I wouldn't take a pill, and I so desperately want to so I can be prepared for the next day, but I force myself not to.  It's only one day.  And he'll know if I did or not.  He was so open with me in the car on the way back, and I just can't risk losing that.  God, it's weird that I'm worried about our friendship and not if the actor in him is still gonna like me, isn't it?  I mean, we're friends, yeah...but this will never not be surreal.  This must be how my aunt and uncle feel with every one of their connections...though they're more professional.

It's nearly two in the morning when I glance at my phone with a frustrated growl. I don't want to keep looking at the clock, but I can't help it.  I feel like I've been laying in the bed for ages, and as nice as it is, I'm restless.

And then I remember; fuck, it's his birthday.  Two hours in and I've yet to say happy birthday.

I immediately jump to Twitter, deciding to be more public about our friendship, and find a gif of himself blowing a kiss to the camera for good effect; he'll love it.  Anything with his face he loves, let's be honest... 

@Rachel_Thomas Happy birthday to the dorkiest person I know...honored to spend it with you.  Have the best day, @RobertDowneyJr!

I glance it over, knowing if I send this, the entire internet is going to question us. But he's made it clear before he doesn't care who sees us together...and he's also made it clear we're just friends.   So I mentally shrug, then try to get back to bed.  Thankfully, this time, I'm able to catch a few hours.

But morning comes all too early, and my phone is suddenly going off.  I yawn, grabbing it, and answer it without looking at the incoming call.

"What?" I groan into the pillow, voice raspy and heavy.

"Ouch, rough night?"

I jump at Downey's voice, realizing I must've sounded like a complete ass.  Then, I roll over in bed, observing the light coming through the large window, and I look at the time on my phone briefly; almost ten.

"Fuck..." I mumble.  "Sorry, I didn't sleep that great, and I forgot to set an alarm..."

He chuckles lightly on the other end, voice making my heart throb even through the phone.  "I gotta be there by eleven.  Do you want me to pick you up or come back for you later?"

I run a hand through my hair, tossing the blankets off of me.  "Uh...how far are you?"

"I can be there in fifteen."

"Can you make it twenty?  And I'll come with."

"You're gonna make me cut it close, Thomas," he laughs.  "But for you, of course.  See you soon."

He sounds much happier than he did the night before; a good night's sleep probably helped.  At least one of us rested...

I quickly toss on a sundress - weird, right?  I never wear these... - and try to spend the next twenty minutes fussing with my makeup and hair...hoping to straighten it enough to lay flat from sleeping on it wet.  My eyes are heavy with dark circles under them, but some cover up helps.  And after the rest, I'm hurrying to grab my bag...nothing the small wrapped square next to my duffel bag; I didn't know what to get...but I did bring him a gift.  I stumbled upon an old painting I did of one of his candid photos I saw online once...he's smiling.  And happy.  Anyway, it's a little dorky, I guess, but I signed it and figured he may appreciate it.  I mean, what do you get someone who can afford the world?  Then I scramble down the hall to the elevator, hoping I'm not making him wait.

Just as I'm coming outside, a black car with a loud engine and the roof down pulls up, and of course all attention is drawn to it.  And there he is, birthday boy sitting in the driver's seat with his sunglasses on, looking like a full representation of Tony Stark.  He grins over, nodding to get in, so I do and put on my seat belt, bag on the car floor.  The seats are soft, genuine leather, and I feel bad about even touching something so elegant.  This is crazy...and yet he has cycled through so many of these kinds of cars since we first met.  Lord only know what other luxurious wonders he has.

"You certainly know how to make an entrance..." I tell him with a low voice.

He takes a moment to drop his glasses to the end of his nose and look over them at me, despite the attention he's drawing.  "You're...in a dress," he comments.  "I thought you don't wear dresses."

I redden at this; he remembered what I told him.  Great.

"I...don't, usually..."  Then, I change the subject.  "Here," I say, shoving the gift at him.  "Happy birthday."

He raises his eyebrows, smile spreading across his face.  "You got me a gift?"

"It's nothing...honestly.  Something I made a while ago."

He shifts the car into park and tears at the edge of the wrapping after pulling it into his lap.  I immediately panic, feeling stupid for what it is.  

"You know what...it's pretty stupid, it's-"

But he finishes unwrapping it and his eyes dance over it from behind his glasses.  "It's me."

"It's...yeah..." I stammer awkwardly.  "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Did you do this?" he asks, interrupting me.

I nod slowly.  "Yeah, a couple years ago.."

"And you signed it," he laughs, and I want to sink into the seat in embarrassment.

"Yeah, I mean...  I have yours now, so now you have mine..." I mumble.

He carefully sets it down in his lap, then looks back at me, not speaking.  I honestly don't know what's going through his mind, so it kinda freaks me out a little.  It was a dumb idea.  Ugh.  I totally fan girled on him too far.

But then he's shifting and pulling me into a hug, yet another kiss being left on my cheek...this is becoming quite the regular thing, apparently.

"I love it," he tells me from over my shoulder. 

Then, I'm released, and he sets it on the floor in the back seat, making sure we can safely carry it back to set as we drive.  

"I paint sometimes, too, you know," he tells me, shifting back into gear.  "So I really appreciate that talent.  But uh...you have any other hidden abilities I should know about?  I feel like I should be worried you might steal my gig for Marvel next..."

I sigh, relieved, and shake my head with a smirk.  "I'm not a good actress at all," I assure him.

He smirks, then revs the engine and we're off.

The car ride is full of wind and fresh air, but I welcome the silence.  Honestly, I spend a good chunk of it admiring his side profile and that strong jaw line of his...

When we get to set, they let him in without a question, and then he parks in a space next to several other fancy cars.  I shouldn't be surprised...this is a place full of Hollywood stars.  Of course they all have nice vehicles.

Robert apparently only has a short scene with the same people as the day before.  He dishes me off to Gwyneth as we run into her on set, stating they have to put the prosthetic arc into place and since he's crunched on time, he'll let me watch them do that tomorrow.

Thank God she's kind, because she has no problem agreeing and takes me to where they'll be shooting.  The set is in another section of the building; Tony's warehouse.  I look around in awe, unable to hold my jaw up.

"Want a photo?" she asks, smiling as she realizes how excited I am to see the actual build of Tony's workshop over the greens screen drop.

"Can I?!" I ask, remembering his rules; no touching, no stepping in front of the cameras.

"Sure.  Just be careful," she teases.  "Robert knocked over one of the suits once trying to show off and they spent a full day trying to craft it back together."

"That explains why he has so many rules," I laugh, carefully climbing up and onto the floor.

She uses her phone to snap a photo and then I'm back at her side, trying to remember to be a normal fucking person when she asks what my number is to send it to me.  So, now my two favorite actors have my phone number.  Freaking unreal.

"He's a quirky one," she laughs.  "But I love him.  Couldn't imagine working with anyone else."

"You two seem really close," I comment, a tug of slight jealousy creeping in that I have ot push down.

"We have a strange history, I suppose," she smiles still.  "But, he seems really fond of you."

"I'm not sure why," I admit, even though he's told me several times.

She laughs, shaking her head and setting her phone down somewhere off camera.  "I'll wait till he figures it out and tells you himself."

I tilt my head in confusion, about to ask what that means, but then Robert comes strolling onto set with his own little group, laughing about something in their conversation.  And God, do I love that laugh and those laugh lines when he smiles.  Adorable...

I probably have heart eyes at this point, who knows.  The arc and his outfit...God, he really is Tony Stark.  But Robert only snickers my way, nodding to his chair again.  So, I take place, and watch as they do a quick morning scene before his party.

By quick I mean several takes, and then it's nearly one in the afternoon.  My stomach's rumbling; I haven't eaten today.  But I'm definitely not going anywhere...not when each taken requires him to do pull ups on a pull up bar.  I do not mind watching that at all.  He looks great, and those muscles are to die for under the tight shirt they put him in.

As they near the end, though, I find myself yawning, purely from lack of sleep.  Once they cut, he wanders my way, and then has me follow him toward wardrobe to disrobe and change into his own clothing again, which I also don't mind, noting the fact that he had dark pants and a white t shirt on earlier, which fell perfectly over his toned chest.

"Did I bore you?" he asks, teasing, as we wander back over toward the trailers.

I smile softly, staring at the ground as I shake my head.  "No, no, not at all.  I'm sorry.  I barely slept last night..."

His lips twitch and I know he's thinking.  And then he does something more surprising, grabbing my hand at my side and squeezing gently before releasing it again.

"Thank you," he says softly, as to not tip anyone else off about what we're talking about, but we both know I kept my promise and didn't pop any pills overnight.

My mind's frozen on him taking my hand, though, even briefly.  His are so soft, quite the opposite of what I would've guessed, with all the hands on work he does on his films.  And they're warm, delicate, in a way.

I try not to stare when I pries his shirt up and the crew takes it to hang it up, but when he lifts it over his head I can't help but swallow nervously, noting the dip below his abs and his strong pecks.  They peel the prosthetic parts of the arc back and then it's pretty easy to take off, probably much easier than putting it on, and then he pulls on his white shirt, smirking at me when he catches me.

"Take a picture, sweetheart," he teases, and I blush.

"There's plenty online," I snap back, but am left speechless again when he drops the jeans and reveals his tight boxers without bothering to have me turn away or turn away himself.

Good Lord, this man has toned legs.  His thighs are strong and as little of a person as he is...I'm slowly letting my eyes travel up and they quickly glance at the one part they shouldn't, and I clear my throat, turning away.

"Really?"

"What?" he grins, stepping into his own pants.  "Looks like you're enjoying the view."

"Just cause it's your birthday doesn't mean you're actually allowed to wear your birthday suit in public," I tell him.

But he laughs it off, tossing that necklace of his over his neck and tucking it under his shirt.  And then he nods toward the door as he wipes his hands off on a towel, then heads outside, me close behind.

Already, I can hear music playing somewhere on set, and it's the same 80s genre we've been listening to together since Malibu.  It's perfectly fine by me, because that's the stuff I love most anyway.  There's a tent set up outside, covering us from the hot Atlanta sun, and inside there's plenty of people mingling and sitting at tables, eating food from a buffet set up along the side.  There's a band playing on a small stage, and balloons galore in the corners.

And then when he enters, there's cheering and a bunch of happy birthday wishes shouted at him, and he takes a bow, being overly dramatic, as always.

"Happy birthday!" Gwyneth celebrates, pulling him in for a hug.

He gives her a kiss on the cheek, same as he's been doing to me, which helps put out that fire that's been burning in my heart all morning.

I watch as Jimmy, Kevin, and a few other crew members do the same; the rest he'll probably get later.  But I'm starving, so I'm eyeing up the side table.  I'm about to ask Jimmy if it's cool to grab some food, but then Robert's hopping up onto the stage after a song ends and takes the mic, leaving the tent in a hush.

"Every year," he starts, "we're either filming here, or in London, or on location...and every year, you guys go over the top with this.  "I'm gonna make this short because I'm starving, and you're all chowing down while my old ass is up here chatting your ears off...  You guys know I wouldn't be where I am without any of you.  So thank you, for spending today with me.  Now let me eat my damn cake and let's get this party started," he grins, and then claps his hands in the air.

He's more chill than I've seen him in videos before, and I'm starting to wonder if it's just when I'm around.  I glance at Jimmy, who's got his phone up, probably filming that for one of his social media accounts, and then we spend the next few minutes grabbing plates of food to take to a table.  There's stories being told  for probably an hour or so about Robert doing silly things on set, or just how they met, or really anything and everything, and I'm sucked into each one.  Most of them I actually sort of know already, but not as in detail, and watching him grin and bite hi tongue when he laughs, embarrassed by each, is a blessing in its own.

Around four, he excuses himself, and then makes rounds as he greets everyone he missed earlier.  Jimmy goes with him, leaving me with a couple crew members, Gwyneth, and Don, who I've only really just met without a real introduction.

"So you must be the girl he keeps going on about," he eventually says when it quiets down, and I close my eyes, laughing.

"Must be," I agree, taking a sip of the water in hand; they smartly left alcohol out, but I'm wondering if that's because of Robert or just because most people are probably on specific diets.

"I'm Don," he greets, extending a hand across the table, which I shake and take.

"I know," I smirk.  "Rachel."

"Rachel, right," he answers, pointing at me as though he just remembered my name from when Robert told him.  "How long are you here for?"

"Just three more days," I tell him.

Gwyneth sits back in her chair, her natural blond hair falling over her shoulder as she chuckles.  "And then we have to go back to babysitting him."

"Babysitting?" I laugh, needing to hear this story.

"You've been his focus for the last few weeks," she informs me.  "But usually, he's..."

She pauses, thinking, so Don takes over.

"He sets his mind on something and he just makes it happen," he grins.  "Whether it's a good idea or not."

I smirk, looking over my shoulder at Robert, who's now posing for photos with his Iron Man themed birthday cake for Jimmy.  He's got a piece in his bare hand, stuffing it into his face.

"He's a child," Gwyneth finishes, dragging my attention back, "but that's why we love him."

"He had all his furniture shipped down here from LA last month," Don states.  "Just cause."

"Tell her about his brilliant idea to prank Evans last year," one of the guys pipes up, and I raise an eyebrow.

"Oh God, I'm afraid..." I admit, but excited to hear this one.

Don's laughing, shaking his head with his arms over his chest.  "He really wanted to wear the suit, so he had them make a double..."

"Cause he's so much smaller than Chris," Gwyneth adds.

"Chris ends up getting the smaller one in wardrobe and it tears straight down the back, then had the crew scrambling to try to fix it."

"Don't you guys have backups?" I ask, grinning as I listen.

"Oh, we do, but he was convinced he grew three sizes overnight while they brought in the other one," Gwyneth tells me.

I don't get to hear the end of the story, though, because there's a tug on my shoulder and when I spin around, Robert's nodding toward the dance floor, begging me to come dance with him and a couple of other friends of his as Footloose starts; the perfect dancing song.  I would normally decline, but it is his birthday, and he looks happier than ever, so I sigh and stand.

"Okay, old man, just don't fall asleep on me," I laugh, and he smirks back.

"You're gonna regret that!"

I bite my lip, trying not to react to that statement as he takes my hands in his and drags me with him near the stage.  We've only dance twice before, one I hardly remember because I had been drinking, and this is definitely not like the dance at the charity event.  His hands feels warm on mine again, and I can't help but notice how much bigger they are than mine, but then again, despite him being so compact, he's still a bigger person than me.

On the first few beats of the intro he starts dramatically circling his hips, eyes closed as he focuses on the beat, and then he's pushing me out and pulling me back in as his feet move when they dive into the main part of the song.

"Come on," he laughs, "loosen up a little."

"Everyone's watching," I warn, but he doesn't care.

"It's my birthday, and I wanna dance with my friends.  Have a little fun...unless you wanna admit this old man can do more than you," he teases, eyes sparkling with mischief.

I can't let him win, obviously, so I narrow my eyes and put some effort into dancing, and by the end of the song, I'm laughing my ass off, completely unaware of Jimmy filming us until I turn back toward the table when Robert spins me.

And then a the tempo changes and I recognize the slow chords of November Rain start...one of my favorite ballads, and a masterpiece by Guns N Roses.

"Okay, how about a break?" I ask, wanting to get away and out of a potentially dangerous slow dance.

But he doesn't let me go and pulls my arms up around his neck, shaking his head.  "Nope, you're having fun.  You're staying here."

"You know, you're going to give the internet the wrong idea," I warn, hinting at the camera his buddy has on us.

"What idea would that be?" he muses, voice low and soft as he sways with me, watching as intently as his dance scene in the first Iron Man movie with Pepper, and it nearly knocks the wind from my lungs.

I brush my bangs from my face and swallow hard, taking a breath.  "You...me...dancing.  Slow dancing."

"So you don't want anyone to know we're dancing?" he asks, smirking.

I watch as his lips tilt up, tugging his goatee and beard with them, and internally sigh.  He's so fucking handsome, it's unfair.  And he just loves teasing me, doesn't he?  He knows.  He has to know.  Yet he still does it.

"I don't want anyone to think we're dating," I hiss under my breath, so no one else hears.

He raises an eyebrow, laughing at me.  "So what?  Let them think what they want."

I just stare back at his brown eyes, blinking.  Did he just say he doesn't care if people say we're dating?  Okay.  So does that mean he isn't bothered by it or he wouldn't mind it happening?  God, now I have so many questions... Fuck, fuck, fuck...

Thank God it's silent until that song ends, as long and drawn out as it is, because the next is back to upbeat, and I know that one, too.  B-52s.  Love Shack.  A classic.

We go back to hand in hand, dancing like idiots with the rest around us, until the middle section.

Bang, bang, bang, on the door baby.

Yeah, this is my shit.

Bang, bang, bang, on the door baby.

We slow our pace a little, him reading my intentions, as it picks up.

Bang bang...on the door, baby, bang bang, on the door!

And then on instinct, I yell it out, closing my eyes and raising my hand in the air as I hit the high note.

"Tin roof!  Rusted..."

When I look back, everyone's staring at me, and Robert's laughing his ass off, hands now on his stomach as he stumbles back.  I'd normally be mad, even if it's embarrassing, but he's so freaking adorable and I love it.  It just puts me in a better mood.

When he cools off, he pulls me back in for a hug and kisses my cheek, trying to reassure me that he's entertained and not to be embarrassed.

"Wanna get out of here?  Take some cake back to the hotel?" he asks in my ear.

I glance outside, nothing the sun is starting to fade, so it must be about five or six by now.  An early night is definitely not a bad idea, after barely sleeping the night before.

"It's your birthday," I answer with a smile.  "Up to you."

"Let's go.  I haven't had much time alone with you."

My heart races when he says this and my mind's immediately skipping to every possibility as we drive back to the hotel.  I try to busy myself with holding the cake he decided to steal and bring back, but it's mot helping.  I'm a wreck and I'm nervous and...fuck, did I forget to shave last night? Probably.  Why does it matter?  It doesn't.  Or does it?  Does he want something to happen? God, don't be weird, Rachel...  You're just hanging out.

"Are you going to be quiet all night?" he asks, tossing on a hat and sunglasses as he hands the vallet his keys.

"No, sorry," I answer quickly, thankful for some kind of conversation.  "Just tired."

He smirks, ducking his head as I lead him toward the elevator, and then hit my floor and the doors close.  I blush, realizing the last time we've been in an elevator was probably when I drunkenly pounced on him.

"If you think I'm gonna trick you into having sex with me, you can relax," he finally speaks up, and I nearly choke on my own air in shock.

'W..what?" I manage.

"You're nervous," he observes. "And you only got nervous when I asked you if you wanted to come back here."

"I'm fine," I insist, keeping my head down. "I just didn't want you to leave your party for me."

"I wanted to."

So, that answers that.

When we make it back to the room, I let him in, setting the cake on the kitchen counter before grabbing a pair of pajamas from my bag. I don't ask, just hold them up and receive a nod from him. I just want to change before I start to get even more uncomfortable in this dress.

When I reemerge, he's holding up two glasses of water and nodding to the bedroom. Yeah, okay.

"You know, things like this usually end in sex," I say warily and he rolls his eyes.

"Your TV is in there. Didn't say we had to get into bed."

"Oh."

Dumb Rachel. He has to think I'm being ridiculous.

I sigh, grabbing the cake and some forks, then push the pillows up to lean agaisnt them. I take my side, and he takes the other, and I hand him his plate in silence.

"Anything on?" I ask, and he takes the remote, flipping through channels until we land on a movie.

"Cast Away?" I laugh. "I haven't seen this in ages."

"Me either," he grins, finishing off his cake already.

After a few minutes, I finish mine and set the plates to the side, sipping at my water and laying my head back on the pillow for a minute.

"So you have a good birthday?" I ask.

"Pretty good. Got to spend it doing what I love with people I love. And no media."

I try not to let his choice of words bother me...surely, he means the cast, not me. I guess I'm quiet until the next commercial break, because then he speaks up again.

"You still think I'm old?" he asks, grinning my way stupidly.

I chuckle and let my eyes close, shaking my head. "I think you're more fit than I am."

"Ah, she finally admits defeat!" he teases, and I wink an eye open at him

The movie starts back up and I force my head back up, watching the character draw a face on Wilson. It's quiet, but it's a calm, exhausted, welcomed quiet. It's comfortable. 

And then I feel myself start to fade but try to fight it.  Even so, my heavy eyelids close a few times, only to startle back open when I sense I'm falling asleep.  But eventually, I do nod off, letting my head lean back again.

The next thing I know, I'm inhaling loudly as I wake up, shifting slightly before pressing my brow together in confusion.   My eyes blink open and I'm immediately mortified...  My cheek is against Robert's shoulder and he's slowly stroking my hair, tucking it behind my ear and out of my face.

"Hey, sleepy," he says, and it's the softest I've ever heard his voice.

His eyes match, delicate and warm, and he holds a slight smile as he watches me.  I want to jump back and freak out, like I normally would, but something just feels...normal.  Right.  I'm not overhwlemed with panic or butterflies or fear of rejection... I'm just content, comfortable. Happy.

"Sorry," I whisper, closing my eyes again and enjoying his touch.  "I must've dozed off..."

"I can go," he suggests in a quiet voice.  "It's late."

"But we didn't finish the movie..." I murmur, and he chuckles lightly in return.

"It ended at least a half hour ago."

"Shit..." I mumble, realizing it's darker than before and the TV's off.

"I'll let myself out," he replies, but I go for his arm, clutching it in denial.

"Stay," I suggest.

"Rach..."  He sounds conflicted...and scolding at the same time.

"Please?" I ask.  "This is the first time in a while I've felt this relaxed...like I don't need the pills..."

He sighs, and I can tell he knows I'm using it as an excuse...it is, and it isn't, honestly. It is true, but I wouldn't mind enjoying him like this...

"Nothing weird...you're just a comfy pillow..." I smirk.

He caves, scooting down so we lay correctly, then takes out his phone, probably setting an alarm.  I can see the light from behind my eyelids.  

"I have to be on site early.  You can come if you want, or I'll send a car for you later in the day."

"Okay," I whisper, slipping back into a much needed sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: smut ahead in second half. Please skip if you don't want to read it. Please let me know if you want more or less of it though. Tasteful, as always.

I don't remember hearing an alarm when I wake up, so I'm a little confused. But when I roll onto my back to an empty bed, I'm more relaxed than I have been in years. I actually had a good night's sleep, and I don't even know what time it is, but I'm certain I slept for hours.

And then the sound of a door opening catches my attention, and from the bathroom strolls a half naked Downey, just like the last time we stayed in the same room.

"You know," I start, voice still raspy and heavy with sleep, "as much as I love this sight, I really gotta stop waking up like this."

"I needed a shower after yesterday. Didn't think you'd mind." He dabs at his hair, smirking. "I was gonna let you sleep."

I rub my eyes and swing my legs off the side of the bed and stretch. "How long till you have to leave?" I ask, and he checks his phone.

"Maybe ten."

"Minutes?!" I gasp, jumping up, now fully awake.

"Yeah..." he states, confused. "I can send a car for you..."

"What time is it?"

"Half past ten. Makeup needs me at eleven. Long day of stunts today."

"Shit..." I groan. "No, no...just...I gotta take a quick shower and I'll be good."

"Okay, but my shirt's still in there," he calls after me as I close the door in his face.

I grab it and toss it back out after cracking the door, then immediately start the water and I swear that's the fastest I've ever showered before. He watches when I reemerge in just my underwear, amused as I toss on new clothes in front of him, then grab my bag and slip on my shoes.

"Remind me to never get in your way in the mornings," Robert chuckles as he rolls his shoulders back and puts on his hat and glasses.

"You say that like we'll be spending more together," I try to joke, but he looks a little hurt by that.

Either way, we grab his car from valet and then we're headed back to set, with probably the longest shoot of the trip happening today. He explains what he has to do when we head toward the makeup trailer, after saying hello to most of the crew, of course. He has a habit of doing that, I notice, but they seem like such a big family, working together every day like this...

And today, he lets me watch as they tell him to strip and sit in a chair, makeup and attachments in hand to add the arc onto Tony's chest. I do my best to focus on their process and not his bare chest, but I'd be lying if I said that worked well at all. But it is interesting, though, how long it takes them to attach the small circle so it looks real and not like someone just double sided taped it to him. I'd be interested in learning more about it...maybe some other time.

"So," he comments when while his eyes find me in the mirror. "I realized I never explained wing chun to you yesterday."

"That's okay," I grin, loving how dedicated to his promises he is.

"What if we went tomorrow? I only have a small scene in the morning, then we can hit up a class in the afternoon," he suggests.

I smile, nodding. It would be interesting, at least.

"Good," he confirms, smiling back.

"All set, buddy," the makeup artist states as his assistant starts packing up their stuff. 

Robert thanks him and stands, shirtless and definitely well toned. He knows I'm staring. I kind of don't care anymore. It's beginning to be difficult to hide.

"I thought that was just digitally done most of the time," I gasp as I admire their work, approaching him from my seat on the couch to inspect the prosthetic arc reactor they placed in his chest. "I mean, I know they did all this, but I never imagined this process..."

"Sometimes. Not for this scene."

Trying not to note his strong shoulders and those biceps muscles holding onto his shirt in front of his abs, I focus on the plastic piece instead and lightly trace my fingers around it, well aware that I've invaded his personal space. I've done that a lot lately.

He stares down at my hands intently, a small curve to his lips. He knows my eyes are going to wander eventually...wouldn't every girls'? So I let them, taking in his toned pecks and the shadow of his abs below. One of my fingers accidentally drops off while I'm distracted and I jump when it makes contact with his skin instead of the cool fake part. Shit.

"Sorry," I whisper, and then I realize my breathing is just a little too staggered, so I keep talking in hopes to mask that. "You've already heard how much I love Tony, though. I mean, look at this. You are him!"

He cocks an eyebrow and widens his smirk, still staring down at me when I look up to meet his eyes.

"Careful with it," he muses, flickering his gaze down to my hands and back. "They kinda need this in one piece."

"Right, no touching, sorry..." I agree a little too quickly and go to move my hand, but he's fast.

His strong grip wraps around it and holds me steady, practically causing me forget to breathe. He's touched me like this before, yeah. In the car in New York. I panicked a little then, but...not now. I don't know why. But his eyes are burning with an intensity I haven't seen in person before; the same seductive look Tony Stark would give. Their usual chocolate shine is darkened, matching his eyelashes.

"What?" I finally choke out, swallowing hard and biting the inside of my lip when his thumb starts to run along my wrist.

"Hey, Tony, they're ready for you in wardrobe!"

The voice is an interruption, so he never does answer. Instead, he heaves out a sigh and lets go of me, running a hand through his now gelled hair. He forces a smile and proceeds to follow the voice into the neighboring trailer, leaving me flustered.

Fuck, I curse silently and lean against the counter top. What is his deal? It's been a couple months since the whole ordeal at the after party, and despite what we discussed, he's still overly protective. Like he's always watching to make sure I'm not popping something. And now...he's been so personal. He was right there. He didn't want me to go. In fact, if we hadn't been interrupted by that thing called his job... Was Tony Stark about to make a move, or was Robert? It's hard to keep up with. I'm probably daydreaming, anyway, so I shake the thoughts from my head and follow him out, only to run into Gwyneth, who's got a script in her mouth as she tries to strap on the glove of the Iron Man torso.

I look her over, amazed at how great she looks in it, and finally remember to apologize.

"I'm sorry," I breathe, suddenly nervous again now that Robert's left me on my own. "I wasn't watching where I was going...have you seen Jimmy by chance?"

She finally reattaches it and takes the script from her mouth, shaking her head. "Not today, but he's probably around here somewhere. Coming to watch again?"

"Yeah," I confirm. "Robert went to get changed, I think... I kinda lost him."

She huffs a laugh out and her eyes soften, apparently feeling bad for me...in a kind way. "Come on, I'll take you. We're on stage four today."

I nod, silently noting that I have no idea which stage is which, and try to remember to ask about that while I'm hanging out with Jimmy. She takes me to a corner building, though, and inside there's an empty ceiling, giving room for the ropes and restraints needed for the acrobatic work Robert was telling me about at lunch on the first day. There room's a big green screen, just a few pieces of Tony's furniture sitting around. I let her go to costume, the crew securing some CGI things into place, and take Robert's cast chair, like usual.

Eventually, he strolls in with Jimmy, shoulders relaxing when he notices I've made it.

"Sorry," he apologizes, hand on my shoulder when he approaches from behind.

He squeezes, and I smile up at him.

"Gwyneth showed me where to go. No problem."

He smiles lightly, then they ring a bell of sorts, and I know he's needed. 

It's nearly one by the time everything is ready to go. They spend the afternoon filming, making sure everything's done right. It's insane, watching the two of them connect the way they do, and it warms my heart to see how much fun they have together doing their jobs. I honestly wish my work was that entertaining...

At one point, they harness them up and do some light stunts, having them be pulled through the air. The rest are on the ground, with Tony somehow summoning his suit with his arms, and Gwyneth hovering over him, I guess cause the house is going to be falling down on them.

"This is so hot," Robert teases between takes, and she closes her eyes laughing as she shakes her head.

Yeah, he's just a big flirt. I need to get used to that.

There's a lunch break, but only fifteen minutes, and Robert spends it talking with Jimmy and the director. I don't bother intervening...it looks like they're still working. I do steal a sandwich from the table, though, and an iced tea.

And then they go back to work, till around six, and when they finally release him, we repeat what happened the day before and I wait for him to redress and then he suggests desert, since 'lunch' was so late in the day.

"I'm gonna stay the night here and knock out the shoot early on tomorrow," he tells me, "but if you want to go into town, we can grab some ice cream or something and then I'll take you to the hotel."

I agree, smiling, and let him take me to his car.

We drive back to the small town between here and the hotel, listening to the radio on the way; I'm not really listening, though...I'm thinking about how they're going to add everything in from that green screen once editing starts on the movie.

There's a small shop that we park in front of, with some tables and string lights outside, and he picks a place to sit and asks me what I want. I'm boring...so I just order a small cup of chocolate. At this point, I'm not even going to bother trying to pay, because I know he's just going to tell me no.

When he returns, he has a cup of neapolitan for himself, which doesn't surprise me for flavor, but...

"I thought they have you on a diet?" I ask, confused as I take a bite of my own and he sits across from me in the dim lighting.

"They do," he nods, eating his own. "But I just had cake yesterday...it's my birthday week. They can give me a break."

I shake my head, laughing at how easy it is for him to break the rules. I guess one small cup won't hurt, though...as long as he doesn't keep it up.

"So what do you think is gonna happen in the movie?" he asks, grinning.

I think for a moment. "Um...honestly? Not a clue. I know Tony's gonna kick whoever destroyed his house's ass though."

"Oh, just you wait," he agrees. "There's a lot in store for him. It's more focused on Tony as a person instead of just Iron Man, but he still dishes it out."

"Hey, spoilers!" I tease, thankful that there aren't many people out tonight who can overhear.

He laughs and I sigh at the brilliant sound it is, focusing on finishing off my ice cream cup.

"So, two nights free of the pills," he comments fondly, taking the last bite of his own.

"Yeah..."

"I'm proud of you."

"Thanks..." I say with a forced smile. 

It's awkward...because I shouldn't have even been taking them still in the first place, but also because I only slept as well as I did the night before because he was there. Something about him is comforting...

"You were out like a light last night, too," he continues, grinning again. "Slept like a rock."

"Sorry..." I whine, embarrassed. "I was so tired, and-"

"Don't apologize!" he insists, and I sigh, getting up with him to toss the empty ice cream cups.

When we make it back to the car, he turns the radio down, allowing us to continue talking on the short ride back.

"I'm so used to not sleeping..." I admit, feeling like it's my turn to open up after he did the first night.

He keeps his focus on the road, but his voice is sincere. "Did it start with him?"

I take a deep breath, trying to figure out how to explain.

"The first time he hit me...was overnight," I nearly whisper, but force myself to explain as I watch him tense at my confession. "And I couldn't sleep after that day. The pills...they didn't come until later. I got them for something else and didn't take them, and one night..."

I suck in a breath, pausing, and he places his hand on my knee when he realizes I'm struggling.

"It's okay, don't push yourself," he requests, but I shake my head.

"No, it's fine..." I sigh. "One night, it wasn't just the normal slap or grabbing me, or whatever. He grabbed my throat, and I swear I wasn't gonna make it... And he dropped me, after a few seconds, panicking and apologizing, so I stupidly accepted it...but the next morning I could barely talk, so I stayed home, and...well, I found them in the cabinet, unopened from something stupid like a dentist visit or whatever and just popped one instead of Advil."

"And you just kept taking them," he finishes for me, and I nod.

"Yeah."

He sighs, removing his hand as we pull into the hotel's lot. "You know, no person should ever treat you like that. Ever. I don't care what the circumstances are."

"I know," I say, forcing a smile. "I'm okay. Really."

His lips twitch and he nods, handing the valet his keys yet again.

"What are you doing?" I ask, confused. "I thought you're going back to set."

He shrugs. "Figured I could at least walk you up. Make sure you get a third night without them after this conversation."

"So you're gonna watch me sleep?" I ask, raising an eyebrow playfully as we take the elevator up.

"No, but I can use this time to tell you how much it would mean to me if you didn't take them again."

I sigh, knowing he's right. But when the doors open, I'm headed down the hallway to the room, getting my key out.

"I'll be fine," I assure him with a smile. "It's right here. "Besides...Charlie's in Pennsylvania, far away from me..."

I can almost see him tense as he turns toward me and I scan the key card against the door and push it open enough to turn on the light and set down my bag on the table at the entry way. Yeah, maybe Charlie isn't the best thing to end the night on, but oh well. It's only my problem to deal with, and I'm taking care of it.

When he doesn't answer, I keep talking.

"Go, they'll be looking for you on set," I tell him, then turn to say goodnight. "I'll be here two more days. I can still come watch you film tomorrow if you want, or-"

My gaze barely has a chance to land back on him before I'm abruptly cut off. I gasp as I'm pulled in and immediately tense on instinct, but this is Robert...not Charlie. His hands grab my face, resting on my cheeks, and a sudden stillness occurs when I feel lips on mine, and my stomach turns into a flock of butterflies...is that what they are? Flock? No. I should know this. Shit, I can't think. I feel fire his lips are pressed. It's new, exciting. It's definitely more than I can remember on that drunken night at the after party. They're soft, yet firm, and he doesn't press it. He just leaves them linger there for a moment, waiting for anything in return, like that morning when we sort of half made out.

The shock still hasn't settled in. What am I supposed to do? How do I respond? We talked about this, and he said we weren't a thing, there was nothing there, there couldn't be...

As if they have a mind of their own, my hands manage to wander up to his forearms, squeezing for a second to ensure him that I'm okay...and I need air. His goatee and mustache tickle slightly when he lets me go, but he doesn't let them go far. There's just enough space between us to speak, but I'm still breathing his air, and it's perfect.

Finally, I flutter my eyes open and meet his; they're dark. Darker than earlier, and that same butterfly issue turns into a fire in my lower stomach, fueled by his warm touch still on my cheeks.

"I thought you said-" I breathe, probably faster than necessary, but it doesn't matter.

"Forget what I said," he growls, "just kiss me."

Then in one swift movement, he's moved my arms around his neck, one hand to the small of my back and the other on the door handle.

He kisses me again, without waiting for a reaction, and I step back and soon hear the door closing behind us, followed by the warmth of both of his hands on my lower back, pulling my body against his. His hips grind into mine, friction forming against my waist as we move. A breath hitches in my chest as I muffle down a gasp, but it's not unnoticed by Downey. He takes the opportunity and slips his tongue across my lower lip and into my parted mouth, searching for my own, which eagerly finds him. This is the first time he's touched me like this. There's sparks...hell, lightning, when he tangles his tongue with mine, and I nearly melt into him right there. He shifts me back again, but all I can focus on at the moment is the feeling of his mouth twisting with mine, and how he tilts his head further and further with each part for a quick breath of air. Hell, he even smells good after being under those lights all day...

The kisses go from soft to urgent, needing, and almost slightly aggressive as he pins me against him to shift as us a whole further back into the hotel room. What the fuck is happening? I'm in a haze, just trying to keep up.

Suddenly, my knees feel the edge of the mattress at the foot of the bed and I pull away from him. Yeah, I wasn't able to deny his lips, his tongue, his mouth... But now, this is so much more real. My face feels hot with a burning flush, and I'm panting, just searching for air. Is it okay to want him? To want this, with no definitions? My head is swimming with the thoughts of his body pressing against mine, his muscles under my hands and his scratchy goatee at my neck...

Robert swallows nervously, then rests his forehead against mine and closes his eyes, leaving me in a completely stunned state once more. I can't form words, I can only bring my eyes up to his face and inspect it. His forehead is lined with proof that he's thinking, but he looks peaceful. Not scared or worried or upset with himself... He flashes his eyes at me, and no words need to be spoken. I need to take initiative if anything is going to happen. I can tell. He isn't going to push, but he's more erratic than I've ever seen him in the few months I've known him.

Quickly deciding it's all or nothing, I lift the hem of my t shirt up and he moves back, allowing it over my head with ease. Before it even touches the ground, he's on me again, his lips smashing into mine, making me melt at his touch. His hands lower and grab my waist, carefully lifting me for just long enough to land my ass on the mattress, his body towering over me and leaning me back one kiss at a time.

When my back hits the soft fabric below, I break the kiss for another gasp of air, but instead I'm greeted with sloppy, wet lips at the edge of my mouth, slowly trailing down my jawline and toward the sensitive skin of my neck. I must let out a small moan by accident when he lowers his kisses toward the spot beneath my ear, because he's growling again against me, his one hand now aggressively playing with the button on my jeans.

When he gets it loose, I help him shake them off of me and a sudden wave of air rolls over my body as I realize I'm in nothing but my underwear. My cheeks burn at the thought, becoming worse and worse as he pushes himself upright and his lustful gaze lands on me. He tugs his own shirt over his head, revealing the same, toned chest and abs I was caught staring at earlier in the day. He's smooth, with strong shoulders, and just the slightest bit of fuzz leading in a happy trail down into his own jeans. I bite my lip, watching as he smirks when he catches me looking him up and down again, but then he's quickly back to my body, pressing his warm skin against me as he lowers his mouth from my neck to my collar bone, and further south.

I can feel his muscles react each time he shifts, but that's fighting with the overwhelming feeling of his lips just between my breasts and his hand tracing my lower hip. I let my eyes close, enjoying the feel, and somehow my hands wind up running through his soft, short hair. Then his hand grazes the strap of my bra, and he tugs down until the cup reveals my right breast and his mouth searches it out. I gasp and arch my back when the warm, wet feel of his mouth closes over it, giving him better access to the other as his strong hand takes the left side and squeezes.

I want to speak as his tongue flicks back and forth, but I can't. It trails a wet line over to the left and repeats, making me fidget underneath his weight. His facial hair scratches slightly, but it isn't bad. Well, not until he leaves my chest alone and begins to go even further south, until he's placing a kiss above my belly button and his fingers hitch in my panties, tugging just the slightest to make sure I don't protest.

Shit. This is actually happening. He's going to see me. All of me. Robert Downey Jr. I fight the anxious feeling rising in me and just remind myself that this is Robert. Aside from the millionaire, world renowned actor shit, he's the same person I've befriended over the last few months. The friend, not the celebrity.

Eventually, he slides them lower with ease, and when he pulls them from my ankles, he runs a hand back up my leg until it reaches my knee, pushing me open and leaving me completely vulnerable to him. I whimper slightly, accidentally, really, but he's gentle. He kisses my inner thigh, then up and around until he center on my core. With a light lick, he drags his tongue in the lightest of feathery touches over me, making me inhale sharply. He teases, with practice, and it drives me mad.

Slow, wet circles are made around my center as he holds my hips in place, my hands grabbing at the sheets at my sides as I gasp for air. Then, he's trailing his tongue lower, until he reaches my opening and carefully inserts it, flicking and curling it back and forth as he puts his mouth to work. I groan when I feel his fingers find where his tongue used to be and circle around me, this time with more pressure. I can feel it building in my lower stomach, the familiar tingling making my muscles pulse as he continues relentlessly. He's good at it and he knows it as he watches me toss my head back in a high pitched moan of his name.

"Just...keep doing that..." I beg with short breath.

But against my wishes, his tongue is removed, but quickly replaced by a finger from his other hand, slowly inserting his digit into me. He thrusts, making me bite my lip as his other hand keeps it's circular motion. Then he adds a second, curling them when he hits high into me, continuing his movements.

After a few more moments, I feel shorter and shorter of breath and I tighten around him, feeling the waves of pleasure creep up on me. He grins, kissing the inside of my thigh, watching.

"Come for me," he demands, and that's all I need.

My back arches and I squeeze my eyes shut as I focus on the feeling of his hands on me. Then, I feel myself hit the peak, pleasure coursing through my nerve endings like waves on a beach, ebbing and flowing until I collapse back on the sheets in a sweaty mess.

Grinning, he withdraws his fingers, licking my wetness off of them, and then scoots back up my body, kisses marking each stop on the way. I squirm when he hits my neck again, and while he sucks and nibbles at a particularly soft spot, I manage to get my hands working and tug at the zipper on his loose jeans, careful not to damage it. He lifts his weight off me just enough to give me access as he works on my neck, groaning when my hand accidentally brushes him through the fabric. I blush, realizing everything I've ever wondered about the man I am about to find out. Just for my eyes, at least for tonight.

Somehow, I push myself past that thought and tug them down over his hips, boxers included, and free him from their capture. He helps kick them off, reaching into the pocket before tossing them aside, and throws a condom on the pillow. Talk about prepared... Then he's pressed back down against me, the hardness of his length obvious against my thigh.

My nails trace the top of his hips, dropping down and teasing the v-line his abs make until he whimpers into my skin, pulling away to let out a genuine moan. His hands go back to my chest, massaging my breasts, encouraging me to touch him, so I do. Soft, at first, my hand lightly trailing a line up to his tip. And then I take him in my whole palm, pumping slowly from bottom to top as he shudders over me. He's bigger than expected, but not overly sized from what I can tell, and that just makes him even more human.

Slowly, I pick up my speed as I jerk him off, panting into his ear as he gives me goosebumps with his soft groans against my shoulder. He must like it, because his hips start bucking into my hand, begging for more, until he abruptly places his hand over me, signaling I need to stop unless I want him to come that way. He kisses me again, his full body pressed against mine, and mumbles something into the kiss instead when I grab at his waist instead.

"Ya sure?" I hear, muffled and raspy; it's only the second thing he's said since he told me he changed his mind.

I hum an agreement into the kiss as I steady him back on my mouth. His hand blindly searches for the condom he tossed over earlier, and he tears it open with his mouth after momentarily pulling back. His lungs move quickly, evident under his bare chest, and he focuses as he lifts himself off me and runs it over his length. Then, his lips press down on mine again, this time hungry and needy like before, and I squeak into his kiss, causing him to chuckle, as he lifts one of my legs until my foot rests on the mattress. Then, he's grabbing my hip and pulling me toward him and I gasp when he enters in one swift movement, the new sensation making me bite my lip, and hard. He notices, because he lets go of the kiss, and he's soon back to work on my neck, sucking and licking over the soft skin there.

"Fuck," I whine, adjusting and waiting for him to move, pulling at his hips with my nails dangerously close to his ass cheeks, which only seems to turn him on more.

I feel the cool lingering of his breath after each kiss, distracting me for a second before he starts thrusting, slow at first, until he dives deeper with each one. At some point, my hands seem to trail up to his face and I grab his cheeks this time, begging him for another kiss. He obliges eagerly, the desperation and want returning to his movements. He moves faster with each thrust until he's hitting me hard, and I just want more of him. Instinctively, my legs move to wrap around his waist and he groans into the kiss when they do, allowing him better access.

I can feel sweat beginning to form at his brow, glistening over his forehead. He's got my waist pinned to the bed his one hand, the other arm supporting him over me, and he's relentless, moving back and forth until I break our mouths apart and he hears me gasp his name.

Thankfully, it isn't 'Tony'.

"Robert!" I moan in just the slightest of a whisper, barely audible. "Fuck...harder..."

I'm lost to his touch, feeling him pound as deep and hard as he can for a few thrusts while he lets out a grunt and struggles to keep his weight off of me. His head has since collapsed into the pillow next to mine, the sounds of his panting heavy in my ear as the bed rocks.

"Shit," I breathe. "I'm gonna...I'm..."

Next thing I know he's claiming my lips again and my arms find their way to his shoulders, feeling his defined muscles under my palms. I want to hang on for as long as I can, but instead, he slows his movements and I can feel the warmth between us as he lets loose, his own climax taking over. He bites my lip when I moan and come with him, and then, he collapses over me and presses his forehead into my shoulder beside my ear, and all I can hear is the sound of both of us trying to catch our breath.

After a small silence, he turns his head and places a few lingering, wet kisses on my jawline, peppering back up until he meets my mouth again, kissing my lips and running his hand through my hair before he pulls out, blindly cupping the condom as he forces himself out of bed and into the bathroom to dispose of it and clean up.

I can't move. I can't function. All I can think of is his groans, repeating over and over, his lazy kisses at the end, gentle and caring. Nothing like Charlie. I wanted this, I welcomes this...I wasn't forced into this.

My heart's racing, beating a million miles a minute under my chest, and I close my eyes, clinging to the sweaty bunch of sheets around me. I just...Robert just... Should this be awkward? I don't know. I can't process that right now...I'm exhausted, and I almost miss him climbing back into bed and pulling me into his chest, gently stroking my hair until sleep calls and I'm out like a light, for the second night in a row.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is gonna get dramatic...I'm sorry. But it just fixes some stuff in the story line. Then lots of fluff.
> 
> Also: I'm going to try my best to update, but this week might be a little packed. Currently finishing up some cosplay stuff and prepping for a concert next week... Also working on remaking RDJ's outfit from the IM3 press tour in Munich...yeah, let me tell you, that's been quite a handful. 
> 
> Anyway...let me know if you like this all so far or if it sucks, ha.

When I finally feel myself wake up, I keep my eyes closed for another moment, grinning at how relaxed my body is. You know, when you don't wanna move and when you do, you feel like you could stretch for hours? I thought not taking the pills would be hard, but...

I flash my eyes open, smiling as I contently look out over the I roll off my side, toward the middle of the bed and hold the sheets over myself, fully aware of the fact that I'm naked and Robert and I very much so - and very soberly so - had sex last night.

And everything's great...until I roll over to an empty bed, with absolutely no sign of him anywhere in the hotel room whatsoever. I sit up, holding the sheets over myself still, for what reason, I don't know, and scan the room.

"Robert?" I call, I guess to double check, but nothing...just silence.

And then my eyes land on it, a note on the side table, just like the day I arrived. Slightly annoyed, I grab for it and read it.

Had to work. I'll send a car.

That's it? That's fucking it? So, what, I got played? We're supposed to just still be buddies after this? Pretend this didn't happen, either? Cause his note doesn't seem like he cares, and I swear he did last night... He was so delicate, so affectionate...

Now fully irritated, I force myself out of bed and take a quick shower, then grab my things. The fun part? I have no idea when the car is even going to be here; I can't find my phone anywhere.

And then it hits me, I left my jacket there yesterday, and my phone's in the pocket. Fuck. Groaning, I grab my ID, like he noted I'd need to get in, and head downstairs, waiting for the car in the lobby for nearly a half hour before I see the familiar black town car pull up. 

I do my best not to take my anger out on the driver, but the car ride is spent in silence as I fiddle with my hands in my lap, trying to mentally force myself to calm down and hear him out first. Maybe he just didn't have time. Maybe he texted me and I didn't get it. I'm jumping to conclusions.

When we get there, I have the driver hand the guy at the gate my ID, and like Robert promised, I'm granted access. Thankfully, they must be taking a break, because when the car drops me off, it's easy to figure out where the group is - on the same stage as yesterday, apparently reshooting the same stuff. They're gathered around a small table in the back, and Robert's with Gwyneth, laughing at something they're talking about, looking handsome as ever.

Don't cave, Rachel. Don't.

I shrug my bag over my shoulder and silently creep across the back to where I see my jacket sitting over the back of his chair; he obviously noticed, too, and kept it there in for when I arrived, but I don't care...I'm still miffed about the short note. So I grab for it, digging my phone from it; great, dead.

Sighing, I shrug the jacket on and put my phone back in my bag, leaving it for later when I can charge it, but I'm quickly interrupted.

"Hey," he says, voice smooth as ever, and I look up, faking a smile, completely embarrassed and awkward.

"Hi..."

"I found your jacket...but I guess you noticed that..." he says, scratching the back of his head as he tries to read me.

"Yeah," I comment. "Thanks."

He sighs, stuffing his hands in Tony's jean pockets. "This is weird. Should this be weird?"

"I don't know, you tell me," I snap, and he definitely hears the tone I accidentally coat it wit.

"What does that mean?"

I stare at him in disbelief, watching as his brow presses together, confused and a little irritated by my mood, himself. 

"I'm not doing this here," I decide, seeing Jimmy's eyes land on us from the set.

"Doing what?"

"Having this conversation. We can talk later."

I really don't want to argue in front of everyone but I really don't feel okay after last night. I've had enough shit happen and didn't need to be used again.

"I have a few minutes...talk now," he requests, placing his hand on my shoulder, but I shrug him off.

"I'm going to go back to the hotel. I just..."

But he interrupts me. "Are you mad? I left you a note."

"Yeah, that just said 'I have to work'..." I mumble.

"Well I did."

He isn't getting it.

"Thanks, I think I got that part."

"Then what's the problem?"

I huff, laughing at how ridiculous this is and how dense he apparently can be. Then, I narrow my eyes and pick my words carefully.

"You fly me to Atlanta, ask me to hangout, get me to sleep with you, and then, what? You gonna tell me to just forget it like before? That it doesn't matter? Because shit like this matters to me!"

I take a deep breath, regrouping before I get too mad, but he pushes my buttons further.'

"Is that what you think?" he asks bluntly, voice hard and face serious. "That I'm using you like he used you?"

"Don't bring Charlie into this," I hiss through clenched teeth; now my anger's showing.

"But that's what you're saying, isn't it?" he asks, raising his voice a little, and God, does he resemble Tony right now. "You knew I had to work today, I told you last night."

I crack my jaw, biting my tongue, until he presses.

"You didn't answer me," he reminds me, eyes burning into me now. "You come here in a bad mood and want to ruin my morning, at least have the decency to tell me what you're thinking!"

"I don't know what to think!" I yell back finally, fully aware that I should not be raising my voice in front of the others like this. "Okay? You got me. You're...you, and-"

He cuts me off, and suddenly we're fighting to talk over each other.

"Me?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, okay. Is that how this is?"

"How what is?"

"You let me fuck you, then ditch me the next day after you get what you want out of your stupid little crush, and-" he shouts, infuriating me further.

I can't help but argue back as he announces to the entire set that we've had sex. "You left!"

"I had to work!"

"And what the hell?" My hands are waving in the air frantically between us as I let my emotions take over what I'm saying and I jump to my own insecurities. "Why me?!"

"Why you what?!"

"You could literally get any girl on this planet to get into bed with you, yet you pick on me!" I growl. "Me, the broken one, the one with all the issues...is that it? I'm easy?"

"Are you serious right now?" he asks, suddenly turning and tossing his arms out, Tony style. "Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Yes!" I answer easily.

"Okay. Okay, you want me to say it?"

"Say what?"

"You're gonna make me say it, aren't you?"

I freeze, realizing what he's talking about, and it is way too soon for that. "Don't you-"

"Is that what you want?" he interrupts, and it's obvious he's as frustrated as I am.

"I don't want you to-"

"I care for you, Rach!" he admits, his voice finally lowering.

I forget to breathe as I finally shut up and just listen. He observes and runs a hand through his hair, letting it fall from position.

"More than I should, okay?" he continues. "Maybe not...yet....but... Look, you talking about that guy that actually beat the shit out of you, Rach...God, I just don't get why you think you deserve that!"

I blink, unable to answer, so he goes on.

"I know I told you the age difference was too much, but...fuck, I can't sit here while you let him do that to you, and... I can't keep from falling for you, Rach. It's happening, and I'm fucking terrified, and I can't stop it."

Did he just... Robert just told me he... Holy shit.

"What?" I whisper, dropping the anger almost instantly, but he doesn't.

"But I gotta work around it, because I can't play these kinds of games with a-"

"Don't."

"Kid," he finishes, taking a stab at my ego.

I stand there for a second, looking at the ground...or anywhere besides him, and then lift my eyes to look at the small little audience he just brought. Gwyneth is pushing through, approaching him and pushing him back into the venue.

"Robert. Hey. Calm down," she says with an even voice, obviously knowing how to handle him.

He shrugs her off angrily, but thankfully doesn't take it out on her. Then, she steals me away and leads me back to the trailers, away from prying eyes.

"I don't think I want to know..." she begins, then goes on when it's apparent I'm trying to remain silent. "Look, he's got a little bit of a hot head," she admits. "He'll get over it. Always does."

I finally look at her and sigh, my hands clutching my jacket a little too hard. "Tell him I had to go home, please," I decide.

I can't take this. I'm going to panic again...soon. I can feel it. And I eel so fucking stupid for thinking he cared. Yeah, I should be thrilled to say I just slept with a movie star, right? I'm not. Because he isn't that to me anymore, and now I'm just hurt, as usual.

She frowns, but nods and accepts it, hugging me quickly before darting back onto set. I contain myself for a few more moments, before briskly walking back to the car and requesting the driver to take me back to the hotel to grab my things. So much for a fun vacation...but I should've known better. Look who I was playing with.

I have the car wait while I check out, grabbing my stuff and cramming it into my bag quickly. I try to charge my phone, at least for a few minutes, and it does have bout ten percent when I finally get back to the car. I load the browser as we drive, purchasing my own return ticket. Yeah, the one he got me will go to waste, but whatever. There's one that leaves in an hour, and it'll be a squeeze, but I need to get out of here...I need to cut ties before I let myself get hurt again. Dramatic? Yeah. But I can't handle another thing to stress me out right now.

At the airport, I turn my phone back off and let it charge while I wait at the gate. Then, after I board, I turn it on momentarily, trying to think of who to go to. I can't explain this to my mother. Or Devin. And it's a week day, so everyone at work is probably busy...

So I do the only thing I'm used to.

R: Meet me at the airport at four...please. I'm sorry.

After I send the text, I try to ignore the others in the inbox, apparently coming in over the last hour or so.

TS: I'm taking the afternoon off. Coming to the hotel. We should talk.

Can you pick up please?

Great, so Robert must have tried to call me while my phone was off. 

TS: Rachel.

Rachel, don't get on the plane. Please.

I force myself to ignore them; the plane's already taxiing...there's nothing I can do even if I did change my mind. But I'm not a total ass...and I send him at least one back.

R: Thank you for the vacation. Good luck on the film.

And thank God I can sleep on flights, because the rest of the trip flies by...ha, but for real. When we land, I have more messages...and a voicemail.

Rach...hey. Listen, I'm sorry. Okay, I'm an asshole, I don't know how to handle these kinds of things. I swear to God I wasn't using you. But I'm not gonna let you do anything stupid. So just...answer the phone. Please.

The text is from who I bugged earlier. Charlie.

C: Here.

I grab my bags, walk off the plane, and even though my stomach churns at the thought of seeing him again...now I just feel guilty. I feel guilty for leaving Robert like that. For telling myself I deserve this. That I'm not good enough for him or myself. Yeah, he was right...I do think I deserve to be punished like this...and it's almost worse than the pill addiction.

I don't respond to either, but I know the car as soon as I see it at pick up. It's familiar...too familiar...and I open the door, heart sinking, and fall into the seat, not talking the entire ride home. But neither does he. And it's tense and dramatic, and I don't even want to look at him. I stare out the window, mind filled with memories from last night, as much as I hate it, and finally...we make it back to my house.

There's no Aero to greet me; he's with my mom. No dog, she still has her too. It's empty. No one to witness anything, no one to want me around like he did in Atlanta... God, what's wrong with me?

"Thank you..." I finally whisper when I set my bags down inside and lean against the kitchen counter. "I didn't know who to call and..."

"What happened?" he asks, voice steady...no concern, just speculation.

"I just...I was visiting a friend and had a bad night and needed to come home." It's not completely a lie.

He smiles, yet it chills me, and then he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. It's something he hasn't done in a while, and it feels...strange. When Robert did it, I couldn't breathe. When Charlie does it...it's like the calm before the storm.

And I predict the weather correctly.

"Is your friend also a guy?" he asks, and I swallow nervously as he traces a spot on my neck where Robert's lips must have left a mark.

I can feel myself start to shake, nervous and a little freaked out...God knows how he's going to react if I tell him who it was. I can't.

"It's a bite...lots of bugs there..." I lie poorly, and he snickers, shaking his head and closing his eyes for a second.

Then... "So Downey's a bug, is he?"

"I didn't-"

But I'm silenced when a strong blow hits my face and I honestly wouldn't be surprised if my jaw's broken. Full fist...no holding back. And then he shoves me back until I stumble and fall to the ground, tasting my own blood in my mouth. It stings...but I'm used to the pain. I hold my jaw, glaring up at him, and then my shin's kicked with his heavy soled boots and I grab at it, hissing in pain.

"To think you'd changed... Don't you ever call me again," he warns lowly. "I won't go easy on you next time."

And then he storms out, the tires of his car kicking up gravel in the driveway through the open door, and I'm left alone. Really alone... No Robert to go to, even if I wanted to. No Devin...she wouldn't support me after this. My mom would make me go to the cops, and then they'd have to take tests and they'd find out I've been taking the Vicodin, and...

The Vicodin... I crawl to the chairs against the island and pull myself up, wincing as the blood trickles droplets to the floor from my cheek. Then I dig through my duffel bad, knowing there's still pills I left there that I didn't take in Atlanta. Grabbing the bottle, I limp over to the bathroom and pour two out onto my hand, taking them with a mouthful of water from the bathroom sink. And then I stare at myself in the mirror. My mouth's already swollen, probably bruising...no teeth damaged, thank God...but I'll be lucky if this heals in time for the show I'm supposed to play with Sting in a few weeks.

I exhale slowly, trying to avoid a panic attack, and grab for the towel next to the sink. I wet it, hoping that will help stop the bleeding, but it only stings when I put pressure on my jaw. I lean forward, trying to inspect the place his hit while cleaning it up, but then my leg gives out, and I fall back against the wall next to the shower, sitting down in frustration. The towel and the bottle of pills knock off the counter in the process, spilling across the floor.

And that's when I hit rock bottom.

Everything hits me at once, and I blink back tears as I lean my head back against the wall, swallowing blood and spit and pain... I close my eyes, trying to focus on my breathing, but I just want to cry. I'm a fucking disaster...

Wiping my eyes, I sigh, noticing the mess I've made, and try to scoop everything up and put it back into the bottle, but I'm already feeling weak from taking double the dose. And does that help? No.

I failed him. Downey. I promised him, and I came home and immediately took them. And yeah, maybe I'm pissed at him, whatever...but he was trying to help. Because he's right...this isn't healthy. None of this is...

I failed myself, too. I caved, taking the pills again. I caved, going back to Charlie. I knew he wouldn't react well, yet I'd rather have him take it out on me than have my friends or family tell me 'I told you so'. Robert's right...I am delusional.

I stare at the pills I've gathered in my hand...just three more, so far...and making a quick, over emotional decision, I pop them in my mouth, swallowing dry. I just want my leg to stop burning and my eyes to stop watering. I just want to sleep. Sleep it off for a few days and forget any of this happened. Delete their numbers...move on.

I pull my phone from my pocket, trying to get the contacts up, but my vision's spotty and my hands are shaking from adrenaline. I manage to load the contacts folder, and I make it to Charlie's number. I open it, deleting it, once and for all. A step in the right direction, right?

Well, I can only hope to be so lucky. Because next thing I know, my phone's on the floor and my head's back against the wall. I have no idea how much time's passed, but I can't fully wake up, even to a light knocking at my front door...which, mind you is still open.

But I'm not that worried; not when I hear the voice.

"Hey! Your door's open...you home?"

Robert. That son of a bitch chased me back to Pennsylvania... I don't deserve him.

"Rach? Rachel, come on."

I faintly hear his voice get closer, but it doesn't do me any good. My vision's blurring again, and as much as I want to answer him, I can only cough incoherently. The pills are still scattered across the floor from where the bottle dropped, and I want to do nothing more than to scoop them up and hide the pile before he finds me, but I can't physically manage it. I shouldn't have taken that fifth pill, but they weren't doing any damage at first, and...fuck, I'm a disaster. Even if he does wander in, I shouldn't be so lucky. Normal people don't use this shit to sleep...but normal people don't get played by celebrities, then beat by their ex boyfriends when they arrive back home unannounced.

I close my eyes and try to prop my head up from the cool wall of the bathroom, but it doesn't work. My forehead stings from the cut and my legs lying out in front of me. Focusing on my breathing seems to help...a little, but I know those last few haven't set in yet, and it's probably going to go downhill fast when they do.

But that's when I finally reopen my eyes and see him; a tight band shirt on and casual pajama style pants with that bracelet around his wrist and the pendent hanging from his neck, safely tucked under the shirt...his weird sense of style, making my lips twitch up as much as they can at an attempt to smile.

"Shit," I hear him curse as he stumbles in and falls to the tile floor in front of me, grabbing at the bottle to read the label and pressing two fingers to my neck, I guess to find a pulse. "Fuck, Rach, what the hell did you do?!" he mumbles, then places the bottle on the counter and proceeds to lift me up.

"Don't..." I manage to groan, slurred and incoherent, and he doesn't listen.

"No way in hell I'm letting you overdose on my watch!" He sounds panicked. "You're not gonna die today, understand?" 

Then I feel my body go limp in his grasp, and the squeak of the faucet as he turns on the shower. I want to protest, but he drags me in regardless, and suddenly the shock of cold water is mixing with my chilled skin as he props me up, back against his chest to stay sitting.

I don't respond, fading in and out.

"Come on..." he encourages, pushing my soaked hair from my damaged face. "God, what did he do to you..."

It's just a whisper, but I hate how upset he sounds. I try desperately to answer, but everything looks like it's fading and darkening around me. The water runs down my face, into my open mouth, but I don't care.

When I feel his hand start to lightly slap across my cheek to keep me awake, I start to feel nauseous, and soon after, my stomach starts to churn.

"Stay awake, babe. You hear me?!" he yells, desperate. "Don't you fucking leave me."

I vaguely feel myself coughing and spitting up some...or all...of whatever was left in my body, and then he's trying to soothe me, patting back my soaked hair. There's a kiss to the top of my head, and his arms are securely around me, making sure I stay upright.

"There you go..." he whispers, probably more to reassure himself than me. "It's okay, you're okay..."

But blackness from exhaustion and shock eventually takes over and the next thing I know, I'm on my back in my bed, groggily opening my eyes to stare at the ceiling. I must've made a noise, because I hear something shift to my side, then a weight on the mattress.

"Hey," they speak, just a whisper, and then a hand is brushing my hair from my eyes again.

I let a smile grace my face, lazily tilting my head toward Robert, who has more concern than I've ever seen on one person's face before. And then it hit me...everything from last night. I mumble something into his hand, turning until my cheek rests on his palm, and close my eyes momentarily again. When I force them open, he doesn't look any happier.

I find my voice and it's barely there...which might help when I try to act sorry and cute to gain his favor back. "Hey..."

He visibly exhales and pulls his hand from my skin, running it through his hair. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I think" I lie.

He adverts his gaze and doesn't speak, so I press.

"Thank you..." I say quietly, my voice still raspy and raw.

His eyes snap back to mine, which are barely open at this point, and he shakes his head.

"I honestly...don't know what to say to you," he tells me, making my heart sink. "Come on, Rach... You know how I feel about this stuff. Okay, this shit isn't a game!"

Okay, so here comes the lecture.

"I know, I just-"

"Do you?" he interrupts. "Can you honestly look at me and tell me you know what the fuck I'm talking about? I've been trying to help you! Make sure something like this doesn't happen, because I know how easily it can! I went to jail, Rach. Okay, and I could've died, on several occasions." He hesitates, then adds, quieter, "you could've died..."

"I didn't mean to..." I whisper, afraid of saying anything else. "It just hurt and I wanted to sleep, and Charlie-"

"Don't say his name," he growls. "You're not seeing him anymore."

I swallow, but don't object. There's not going to be any reasoning after how I probably look right now.

Robert looks at me, his expression turning more sad, and his eyes soften. "Why won't you tell someone?"

"I'm fine!" I insist, now waking up a bit more. "It's just one when I can't sleep, and-"

"Not the Vicodin," he cuts me off. "We'll get there next. Someone could've helped. We could take him to court... He's not coming anywhere near you again," he decides, as if it's fact.

"I don't want to go to the cops," I answer quietly, looking away.

"Why?"

"I just don't want to!" I snap.

He stares at me momentarily, then rolls his eyes. "Fine. I'm not even going to begin to ask. But if you're not going to have the authorities keep you safe, I will."

I almost snort at how ridiculous that answer is. He is in the public eye. He can't seriously think trying to protect me is going to be a good idea.

"You can't," I respond, making a mental decision...he's been through enough.

"Uh, yeah, I can."

"I don't want you to," I argue, pushing myself up into a sitting position.

He narrows his eyes, resting his face in his hand while he tries to calm himself down. After a few seconds, he raises his head again and stares out my bedroom window.

"I can't keep wondering if you're going to be alive the next time I see you," he says with a steady voice. "I get the pills. I do. Doesn't mean I'm not gonna take whatever's left the hell away from you."

"You can't!" I gasp, but he ignores me.

"But if you're gonna keep going back for more...I can't help you, Rach. And the addiction...I can't get stuck in that kind of life again. I'd do my fucking best to keep you safe, but you can't rely on me to save your life when it's too late."

My stomach does twists as I comprehend what he was saying. It didn't need explained, but I felt the need to fight anyway.

"You called me babe," I remember, trying to keep my voice as level as his, but my throat is tight and I'm trying not to be upset over this.

He shakes his head and stands up, then leans over me to place a kiss on my forehead. "I'm sorry..."

It's a whisper, delicate and light before he lets himself out, grabbing the Vicodin bottle on the way. It's a goodbye.


	22. Chapter 22

Almost as soon as he's gone, my day gets worse. In strolls my two worst nightmares; Devin and my mother. Both with horrified and tired expressions. Great, he must have called them.

No words are spoken as Devin sits down on the side of my bed, her arms crossed awkwardly over her torso. She looks uncomfortable. So am I. My mother takes the side Robert was on, and now I'm surrounded.

But my mind's not even on this. It's on the fact that he just grabbed my pill bottle and left.

"Is someone going to stop him?" I finally speak up, and Devin raises an eyebrow in question.

"Rachel, he's done. Let him go," she tells me sternly.

"He's leaving with a fucking bottle of narcotics, Devin, he can't have that on him!" I say urgently, forcing myself to sit up.

My jaw stings, tight as I start speaking more, but I'm used to it.

"If he wanted to get high, he would've done it with you," she says simply, and then my mother jumps in, voice steady and face unreadable.

"Why don't we talk about that, though."

"I'd rather not..." I mumble, trying to slyly look around the room to find my phone for a distraction.

"What the hell happened, Rachel?"

"Nothing..."

"Rachel Marie Thomas, you fucking answer my questions, do you understand?!" she yells suddenly, and I know her...she's doing it to avoid being upset.

I blink, nodding, and hang my head down to avoid their stares. I never, ever fight with her when she gets like this. Angry, yes. Upset? Never. Especially when it's because of me.

"We had a fight. I came back. Charlie picked me up."

"How long has he been abusing you?" my mom asks, direct and plain.

"Robert didn't do this!" I gasp, glaring up at her, and she rolls her eyes.

"Stop being dramatic, Rachel. Devin told me everything."

Devin sighs, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Rach, I am... But really, pain killers? There's only so much a friend can put up with."

"And for what?" my mom follows up, not giving me a second to defend myself. "What the hell is possibly so fucked up that you want to suddenly kill yourself?!"

"I didn't try to...ugh!" I groan, tossing my head back and closing my eyes. "I can't sleep. I don't sleep at night, because when Charlie has his episodes, it's usually before bed. And I take them to help me sleep. Okay? I'm not trying to fucking die, or whatever you think. It was an accident, I took a couple extra because this time it was worse, and..."

I trail off, realizing they're finally listening. And there's suddenly a weight lifted off my shoulders.

"Why did you come back?" my mom asks.

"We had a fight, like I told you already," I snap.

"About?"

"Just...nothing. Please, can I have something be private? It was just a fight."

Suddenly, there's warmth on my hand, and I look up to see my mother placing her hand over mine with a concerned look. She swallows nervously, like I do a lot more often than not, and sighs.

"Okay." Her voice is softer. "Okay, here's what we're going to do..."

I shift my gaze nervously between the both of them, until she speaks again.

"Devin and Robert filled me in. On everything. So you don't have to try to censor things for me."

"Everything?" I squeak, not sure just what Robert may have told her.

"Except whatever you fought about that neither of you want to explain to me, but I don't even care. We're going to the hospital to get you looked at. And then Robert's paying for you to spend three weeks at Greenbriar in-"

"Rehab?!" I basically shout, jaw dropping as much as it can through how swollen it is. "You have to be kidding me! I have work, I have a life, the concert in LA. If they find out...if anyone finds out, my carrier is over, my-"

"We cleared it with your job," Devin tells me.

"How?!"

"Well, the other part..." my mother sighs again, "...we're going to help you with this, but Rachel...you have to turn him in. File a report. Please."

"No. No, no, no!" I protest, pulling my hand away from her. "I can't have that mess on my name, on Robert's name, I-"

"Rachel, Robert's done," Devin growls, finally letting her annoyance show. "Don't you fucking get that?!"

"He's paying for this shit, isn't he?!" I snap back. "Obviously he isn't."

"Because he doesn't want you to die!"

I don't get to interject, because my mom's holding her hands up, ending it. "Enough. Get dressed. If you need help, Devin can help you. We're going, end of story."

"I am a thirty year old adult!" I hiss, pissed as all hell that they're teaming up on me. "I can make my own decisions."

"Not anymore."

And that's how I get dragged downtown and to the hospital. I keep sunglasses on under a hat, just like Robert would, just in case someone recognizes me. It's a very long shot, but I'm so wound up over possibly missing the show with Sting and I don't want anything to jeopardize that. I'm sure the headlines are swarming with news trying to locate me after Robert's live stream on his birthday, anyway... So this is what it's like to be in the spotlight.

"So we'll just get some photos here..." the nurse states calmly, trying to keep me from panicking, but too late.

There's a special victims representative readying a camera at the other side of the room. Yeah, just like the fucking TV show. Fucking great, isn't it?

I don't want to speak. I am stuck somewhere between wanting to cry and annoyed and emotionless and panicked and...it's not a good place. And having Devin and my mother right there while all of this happens is extremely uncomfortable.

"Is there any chance you're pregnant?" she asks, and my mouth goes instantly dry.

"No..." I whisper, weakly. "No, I don't think...no."

"Are you sure? Because addictions like this can cause some nasty side effects. Premature labor, miscarriage..."

"I'm not pregnant," I interject, ending that conversation; who would ever want a family with a drug addict?

After a moment analyzing me, she nods. "Have you had sex recently?"

I focus on my breathing, staring at my hands, and nod slightly.

"Okay. We'll need a blood test, and we'll do a rape kit, just for precaution..." she goes on as they start to snap photos of my bruises where Charlie hit. 

"No," I mumble finally.

"Rachel, please," my mom begs, finally crumbling. "Can you just cooperate for once?"

"I wasn't raped!" I whisper, too mentally exhausted to yell.

"Maybe...a little privacy for this part wouldn't be a bad idea," the nurse requests, giving them the hint that I might say more if I'm alone...which I would.

"It's okay if something happened," she continues when they agree to leave and head to the hallway. "But don't feel threatened to hide it. The more they know, the stronger your case is against him."

"It wasn't him..." I force myself to answer, feeling a little bit better now that we're alone and she can't repeat anything. "So please...no kit." The last thing I want is anyone to know Robert and I slept together. "I'll do the blood work, the photos, whatever...just not that."

She sighs, looking at me like I'm a child, and I hate it. "Then at least tell me who. Just give me a name, so I can trust you."

"You don't need to know that," I tell her easily, and she smirks.

"No, I don't, you're right. But so far, you've given me no reason to believe you. So, if it wasn't Charlie, who was it?"

I clench my hands into nervous fists and clear my throat, looking down again. "Robert..."

"As in?!" she asks, shocked when I nod. "Damn. Okay. Yeah, I believe you. No rape kit."

And then I'm jabbed with a needle while I'm caught off guard, and she laughs.

"Distraction...always does the trick."

There's nothing given for the pain or swelling at all during the day..which makes sense, because who would give me drugs now? I'm told they'd go over my results with my mother when they came in, and I'm taken to a room to meet the rest of the unit from the police to answer questions. Everything and everything you already know. How it started, what he's done to me. How the addiction started, what role Robert plays, if any... And I'm not going to bore you with the questions, because I'd just be repeating myself.

My mother agrees to drive me to this stupid place I'm going to be prisoner for three weeks, and I hate myself even more the further we go. I don't get to take my things. I don't get to see Aero. I don't get to use my phone. Everything is happening so fast and I feel sick to my stomach when we finally pull up to the building; it's boring and bland, but there's a nice yard out front and I guess I can put up with it...

And when they force me to get out and take me inside and the people at the desk start prepping my paperwork, it hits me. This...is all because I fucked up. All because I can't admit I have a problem. And my mom's mad because she's upset, and Devin can't stand to look at me because I don't see what they're doing is only trying to help me.

"Miss Thomas, want to say goodbye and we'll show you to your room for your stay?"

My breathing quickens when I hear this from the man holding my papers in a file, and I nod, wringing my hands at my waist to avoid having a panic attack. It only gets worse when Devin forces a smile and attacks me with a hug.

I hold onto her, feeling tears pool at my eyes. I don't want to do this. I can't. I...

"You're gonna be fine," she tells me and I bite my lip to stop myself from really crying. "It's just three weeks."

"I'm so sorry, Devin..." I whisper over her shoulder. "Please don't hate me forever..."

"I don't hate you," he says with a little laugh, but I can tell she's upset, too. "I just want you to get past this. We all do."

Swallowing, I nod, releasing her and standing back. And then my mom. I don't think I can handle this one.

"Rachel..." she sighs, hugging me next, and God, is it tight. "I know you don't understand, but... God, I'm your mother, and I had no idea. No idea about any of it." She sniffles, and that makes me drop a few tears on her shoulder. "I just want you to get better."

"I'm sorry..." I squeak, finally breaking down and crying...sobbing, honestly. "I was so scared to tell you and...mom, I don't want to go, I don't...I can't do this..."

"It'll be okay," she hushes me, hand running up and down my back. "I'll see you in three weeks, okay? I'll handle the case until then and we'll get through this. Things will get better."

And then comes the suffering. The three long weeks of nothing. No outside world. The memories of the weekend with Robert still very much alive in my brain.

The first few days are the worst. A new bed. A new room. New people I don't want to talk to. Naturally, I can't sleep. But there's nothing I can take for that. So I sit awake for the first week, I swear. Same thing every day; get breakfast, go for a walk, take a shower, go to the music room and work on new material...that I can hopefully remember...and then people watch until dinner. I've successfully made it through week one without talking to anyone but the doctors who want to take my vitals every day.

Part of me wonders what's going on with Robert. If he's still filming...if he's okay. Someone said he has a premiere coming up. I have no idea if that's true or not, but I guess the Avengers is coming out, so it would make sense. I wonder who he'll take. Maybe that same girl from Valentine's Day? Maybe they slept together, too...

And then the first weekend comes along, and with it, a scheduled appointment with a therapist. Because, you know...talking has been going so extremely well for me.

I sit, watching intently as a man just a little older than me, probably, takes down notes, and comments on my hands twisting in my lap.

"It's a quirk..." I mumble, knowing I only do it when I'm anxious.

"Do you remember when you started it?" he asks, observing my body language.

I shake my head, avoiding his eyes.

"When's the first time you can remember feeling nervous or anxious?" he presses and I shrug.

"I dunno. Guess when I was a kid."

"Something that happened? Or maybe something your parents said?"

I blink, realizing yeah, maybe he's right. "My dad left when I was younger. Left my mom for someone else."

He nods, leaning forward, and somehow, I start to relax a little bit. This is the first time I've talked about this. Right? I never mentioned him. Just my mom. Because that's all there is. Just my mom and no one else.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, and I sigh, looking out the window.

"Not particularly, no. There's not much else to it. He died a couple years later. Never knew him. Just saw my mom upset."

"Sort of like how you view yourself, isn't it?" he comments, and I think for a moment.

Maybe he's right. Maybe I think I deserve to be upset since she was. That I deserve to be left. To be treated how Charlie treated me...

"Maybe also why you let him hit you," he presses.

I suck in a breath and shrug, not wanting to talk about it. "Yeah...maybe."

"Why don't you think about that this week...and next weekend we'll see what you come up with."

I reluctantly agree, knowing I have to if I ever want to leave this place.

So, the next weekend, we dive back in, starting with Charlie. This weekend I'm more talkative. I've slept, surprise surprise. I've gotten to know the staff, the doctors...no neighbors yet, but that's just because they all stare at my bruised face when I wander the halls, so it doesn't make me feel welcomed.

"You look better," he starts, noticing I'm not drifting off to sleep on his couch.

I shrug again, quiet. "I've slept this week."

"Without the pills. Any complications?"

"At first...some chills, sleepless nights...I dunno. I don't think it was that bad."

"Do you compare your addiction to others?"

"I..." I start, huffing and pressing my lips together when all that runs through my head is Downey. "No. I just think it could've been worse. I didn't do it for the feel, I did it to get some sleep. And now I'm sleeping."

"Did you take any time to think about Charlie?" the therapist asks, straight forward right off the bat.

I sigh, not wanting to admit it, but yes, I had nothing but time to. "Sort of."

"You're thinking maybe you do think you should have a dysfunctional relationship, aren't you?" he guesses. "Because of your parents?"

I smirk, no longer wringing my hands...but I still look out the window. "Robert called my dysfunctional, too. Is that something you rehab folks preach?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "No. Everyone's situation is different."

"Right..." I mumble, not really listening...until...

"Let's talk about Robert, then."

I whip my head back toward him, blinking. "What?"

"How did you meet?"

"I...We met at a wedding. We both sang with the band."

"And you two became friends?" he asks.

I nod slowly, heart tugging as I wonder if we ever will be again. "Yeah...I guess. Maybe not anymore. We recorded a song together...it's on the radio..."

"I've heard it," he smiles, and I hate that.

"Must be nice," I say. "I haven't heard anything besides the guy next to me screaming at the staff every morning."

"We have a radio, you know," he tells me, raising an eyebrow. "In the dining room."

"I don't eat with them."

"Okay, so that's the next thing to work on. Getting out of this mood and going back to being social."

I don't answer, just tap my finger on my leg once I cross my knees.

"So, you're drawn to Robert," he continues, and I stare at him. "You guys seem pretty close."

"I guess..."

He sighs, dropping his glasses from his nose. "Rachel, nothing is repeated outside of this room. So don't be afraid to answer my questions. You never know what will come out of it."

"Okay," I sigh dramatically, irritated now. "Yeah. I like him. And now we don't talk. But I mean...I can't talk to anyone outside of here, so who the hell knows what's going on?"

"So you two had sex," he takes from that, and I glare at him.

"Yup."

"He's old than you, isn't he?"

Groaning, I sink back against the couch and cross my arms over my chest. "Yeah, I'm aware."

"Do you think it might have something to do with your dad leaving?"

I snort out in laughter for the first time and slap my knee, being way too dramatic for my own good. "You're telling me I have daddy issues now? Really?"

"No," he stays with a straight face. "I'm saying it seems like you need to have that space filled though. Maybe not as a parent, but a masculine figure."

"My dad and the man I'm fucking are two completely different things."

"Just...hear me out. Your dad left, so need direction. Charlie gave that to you, right? Even if it wasn't healthy. He basically managed you, from what we were told. And when you felt you weren't deserving, you let him discipline you."

"That's definitely not the word I'd use," I tell him, embarrassed by this now.

"Robert gave you direction in your career. He tried to help you stay away from the Vicodin, and you listened...when he told you not to take them."

"So?"

"Why do you think that is?"

"Because I've loved that man since I was a teenager," I answer simply. "I doubt I'd say no to much, even if...never mind."

"Have you ever thought you might love him for real?"

I cough, clearing my throat, and shake my head. "Me? Love? No."

No. Right? I can't. He's...he...fuck.

"He doesn't hate you, you know," the therapist comments, and I glance up, eyes softer at that small, small glimmer of hope. "He just wants to help. But you need to help yourself before he can."

"I'm sorry, are you two talking?" I ask, and he frowns.

"Focus on making your own decisions this week," he requests, changing the subject and ending our meeting.

So, I do. I make my own decision not to interact with anyone for the start of week three. But then the nerves start in. If they release me...if they let me go this weekend... Can I handle being out there in the world again?

I don't get to worry about it too long before I start to panic. Around Wednesday, a lawyer shows up, requesting to speak to me. It's the first contact I've had with anyone outside of this place in two and a half weeks. He preps me, telling me there's going to be a hearing. They want me there, but it's the week I'm released...next week. And Charlie will be there. There's a case against him, and I have pretty good odds at winning if I show. He'd be sent away. For up to four years.

I accept, and then I suddenly feel free. If he's sent to jail...no more worrying. Nothing to go back to. Nothing to be afraid of or control me. Maybe the shrink's right...maybe I need to start deciding for myself.

So, I spend the end of the week eating dinner with people. Talking. Introducing myself. Still avoiding any questions about myself or Robert, but... On Friday, my last dinner before the morning evaluation, I debut one of the songs I've been working on, just for the group for fun. And I'm thrilled. Maybe I can do this show in LA...if he'll still have me.

And then Saturday comes. Judgment day.

"So...today's the day," the therapist begins and I nod, eager to get out of here and live my life and do what I love. "I heard you've come out of your shell a little bit this week."

"I tried..." I agree, the first time I've been nice to this poor man. "I think you're right. About feeling controlled. Holding back until someone else says it's okay..."

"So you decided to play something for everyone."

"Yeah...I think I've always waited for acceptance with my music, and...I just gotta do it. Even if it's rejection."

He smiles, setting his pen down.

"If I have them let you leave here, I have one more thing for you to do," he tells me, and I suck in a breath.

"What?"

"First...apologize. To everyone you put in the middle of this. Get rid of all the hate, for others, for yourself... Learn from this, but move on."

"Okay..." Easy enough.

"Second...now that you know you can decide for yourself...decide to make yourself happy. Stop relying on others. Stop second guessing or thinking you need approval."

I think about his words, then eventually nod. "Then...I'm sorry, for being an ass to you and being miserable the last three weeks," I say sincerely.

And he holds his smile nodding. Then he stands, and I press my eyebrows together, confused.

"I think it's time for you to go home," he says and I swear I could cry, but I hold it in.

He takes me out toward the front office and hands them his files, then nods in the direction of my room.

"Go get your things. Your mother will be here soon."

I can't tell you how quickly I pack, but I'm back in a hurry, and he walks me outside, hands in his pockets.

"For the record...I haven't talked to Robert," he tells me as my mom's car pulls up. "But if I were him, I'd be proud of you for kicking this so easily. I agree it wasn't serious...but you put up with it like a champ and stopped it before it got too bad to fix."

I look at him, finally giving him a smile, and nod, silently thanking him. And then I'm greeted by both my mother and Devin, just as they left me.

I hug them each, and respectively apologize, just like he asked me to. It's tough...I hate confrontation like that...but he's right, it feels better...more free, and I know they won't hold this over my head.

"Thank you," I say to them when I drop into the car and put on a seat belt. "For making me do that."

"Don't thank us, thank Robert," my mom says, and I sigh, looking out the window.

Robert. Yeah.

"Can I have my phone?" I ask, and Devin reluctantly hands it to me.

"Don't freak out, but...he deleted his contact info," she tells me quietly.

I don't know whether to be upset or angry or...what. But I guess that's what I deserve.

"I still have it," she adds softly. "We'll see how you do."

I don't argue. It makes sense. Who would blame him for not wanting to talk to me right out of rehab? He has to focus on work. Focus on filming.

"The hearing is on Thursday," my mother says, looking in the rear view mirror at me while she drives, and I nod.

"Yeah, I talked to the lawyer..." I answer, though I am silently dreading Thursday more than words can say.

They hound me pretty hard that weekend, including making me stay at my mom's, but thankfully I'm allowed to go back to work on Monday. Devin drives me and picks me up, hoping to keep me out of Charlie's reach in the meantime. Apparently he isn't happy, so they were nervous about letting me out on my own, but at least they aren't acting like I'll go eat a pharmacy or something the first time alone.

And then comes Thursday. It's not a trail, just a hearing. They present the evidence. And long story short...the photos are enough, and he's sentenced. And I'm free.

I'm fucking free. He's going away, for two years, one, with parole, if he's good. A restraining order is issued, and for good reason. And I'm so emotional when they call it that I'm sobbing in my mom's arms again.

But, I don't miss the glare he gives me...the first time we've made eye contact since that night, and it chills me.

"You won," Devin breathes from my side, and I grin, actually happy. "Rach, he's gone. Everything's done with."

"Not everything," I sigh, giving her my best puppy dog eyes.

"Rachel..."

"Dev, I promised that place I'd apologize, and...I need to do it to his face. Even if he wants me to forget about him afterwards. Please..."

She takes a deep breath, narrowing her eyes, then nods. "I'll buy you a ticket...but I'm not giving you anything else."

"Thank you..." I whisper, relieved.

Onto Atlanta.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: smut somewhere in here, as requested.

Warning: More smut in second half, as requested.

 

So...let's just...let's just recap for a second. It's mid May. I have to be in LA next week; the show's still on, and I've never been more relieved. Devin drove me to the airport this afternoon and I took a flight to Atlanta, on her, a thank you for going through with rehab. I haven't replaced the pills, and I haven't wanted to. But...I still have one person to apologize to, and I've never been more afraid in my life.

I was banking on them still letting me in the gate, and thank God he never thought to take my name off, because the guy there let me in with no issues, since I had my ID. It's quiet at the studio tonight, though, and I'm beginning to wonder if he's even here...but the black car he drove last month is sitting in its spot, so he has to be here somewhere...I hope.

God, I hope this wasn't a bad decision... We're friends, right? Yeah. Were. Whatever. But I should be okay doing this. He won't mind, will he? I don't even know. He deleted everything from my phone, just left the photos.

My hands twist nervously, not bothering to move the hair from my face that the wind is gently blowing out of place. Then the lights shut down inside one of the warehouses, but it's late. I check my phone - ten thirty. Ouch. I should just go home. I should...

And then there's movement at the other end of the parking spaces., and soon enough, I can make out his short silhouette. God, I haven't seen him in so long. His hair's still spiked like Tony, but he's casual. He's got those ridiculous pants on and an army green t-shirt hugging his chest. His hands are stuffed in his pocket and he stares at the ground, silently nodding as Jimmy scrolls through his phone, informing him of one thing or another.

Then he kicks the ground as they slow to a stop beside a car, probably Jimmy's, and he finally looks up. At this point, he's turned away from me, and I press my lips together, hard. What if he's meeting someone? He's probably forgotten all about me, right? I mean, that stupid song doesn't matter to him in the scheme of things...

Jimmy finally puts the phone down and strolls over to the driver's side, opening the door and speaking to Robert across the roof, who's still standing by the passengers side. Weird...he usually loves driving. Especially the old school cars like this. Suddenly, my eyes lock with Jimmy's and I immediately turn my gaze away, fumbling with my hands even more. My heart's racing, but I force myself to look back up, and of course he's alerted him. Robert's staring my way, his eyebrows pressed together in confusion, so I make a quick decision to just wave awkwardly and force a slight smile.

I see Jimmy raise an eyebrow and I can faintly hear them.

"Go. I'll meet ya there."

Robert turns back to him and nods, then strolls my way. It's slow and agonizing and he's staring at his feet again until they lead up to me.

"Hey..." I whisper, which makes him finally look up and meet my eyes.

It kills me... I hate these nerves. I should just leave.

He exhales and frowns slightly, finally taking the bait. "Okay, I'll bite. What are you doing here?"

His voice is so smooth and deeper than I remember, and it hurts.

"I just wanted to see you..." I stutter out.

He rolls back on his heels, giving me a cold answer in response. "Okay, well, here I am. You're lucky you got here when you did. Filming wraps in a few weeks."

I frown and decide maybe it's time to get straight to the point. I try to plan my response before it comes out, but I'm having trouble. He looks so good. Tired, but good. But his guard is up, and it's obvious.

"I did it," I say simply, never leaving his chocolate eyes. "We reported him to the police, and... They arrested him. There was a hearing."

He lets his shoulders loosen and his face softens, obviously relieved, but he doesn't talk, so I keep going, but only once I look at my hands again.

"I...I spent three weeks in rehab...like you wanted. And I wanted you to know I'm fine. And I couldn't just text you...well, honestly, Devin wouldn't let me text you. But I guess I deserve that. Even if I wanted to, it really isn't that easy to find Robert Downey Jr's phone number online, and I didn't dare check Twitter, so..."

I sigh, trying to catch my breath.

"I know it probably doesn't mean anything to you, but...I just can't shake that day at the apartment. And I just...I'm really sorry, Robert. I never meant to drag you back into things, and I was so insecure about myself that I acted like a...kid," I force, repeating his choice of words.

I realize I'm rambling, so I eventually trail off. When I look back at him, a slight smile is pulling at his lips and he sighs, pulling his hands from his pockets. Before I know it, he's pulled me into a big hug, his arms slipping around my waist as he lays his chin on my shoulder, and the sting of tears in my eyes forms as I squeeze them shut and hug him back.

"Do you know how worried I was?" he asks quietly. "Every day."

I relax for the first time in hours and lean into him, feeling the emptiness from the past month being filled. His familiar scent, the way his touch sends fire to my skin, his voice rumbling in my ear...

But that doesn't mean things are fine...not yet. And I was told to finally start letting myself be happy. So...I feel bolder than usual, now confident he doesn't hate me.

"I know you might...I mean, if you're seeing someone else, I get it..." I say after enjoying his embrace for a few more seconds. "That's not why I came here, I just...we left off on weird foot, and I just figured you didn't want anything to do with me, and then I heard you took that girl to the premiere, and... We never really..well, I guess-"

Finally, he shuts me up, releasing me to pull me in for a kiss, his lips pressing against mine as hard as he can. And I stop talking instantly, shocked by the sudden gesture. But my heart flares and everything seems to be falling into place. I feel his hand run through my hair just before he releases me, and then his forehead is pressed to mine and he's grinning.

"I've wanted to do that since last time you were here..." he admits. "I missed you, Rach..."

"You're insane," I smile back, and somehow, I'm fueled with the confidence to wrap my arms around his neck on my own.

He drops his to my waist and then he's leaning back in. "I know," he mumbles.

I can't help but smile against his lips when they reattach. It's an innocent kiss, one I've needed for a while, and the fact that he's just as happy is making my stomach do flips. It isn't weird. It feels normal. Comfortable. I'm not doubting myself or him or...the fact that there might be an 'us'. I'm not thinking of RDJ, but of Robert...the Robert that made me dance with him like a crazy person, the one who sang ABBA with me in the car...

But another part of me is longing for his touch...remembering the only night we shared. Whatever has come over me...I just want to be close to him. To be happy, like I want to be. He pecks my lips a few more times before I catch him off guard, running my hands down his chest and slipping them under his shirt to trace the line above his pants.

"I need you," I speak into his kiss, and I can feel him inhale and smirk against my mouth, amused and welcoming my confidence.

He grunts something of approval before speaking, but like me, doesn't unlock his mouth from mine. "Mmm, hotel?"

"Too far. Trailer?"

"Mhmm..." he mumbles in approval. "God, I love you."

It doesn't even take a second for me to push him off, my hands pressed against his waist to keep safe distance, my eyes scanning his for any sign of confirmation. There's no way in hell I heard that right. Did I? No. He had to have said something else. Want? Yeah. Maybe that. 'I want you'. It's close, right?

"What?"

Thankfully, the next thing I hear is a slow clap from across the space, coming from the car that still hasn't left.

"Thank God!" Jimmy groans, waving the phone in the air. "Are you done moping around the place now?"

Robert whips his head toward his security and friend and open his mouth to speak, but quickly closes it again.

"Got it all on video, boss," Jimmy teases.

"Hey, you don't post that anywhere!" Downey demands, pointing at him as he finally sinks into the seat of the car and rolls down the passenger window.

"I assume you'll be late. Save a seat for ya," he grins back and starts the engine.

I watch him go, before I feel Robert lay a hand over mine on his chest, pulling me from the distraction. I look back to him, my eyes still wide.

"So...where were we?" he asks awkwardly, back to the shy self he was before Jimmy interrupted.

"What did you just say?" I ask quietly, still panicked.

"I uh...nothing. I just, are we about to have sex again, cause I might be reading this conversation wrong..." he stammers, more like Tony than I remember.

I can't help but laugh at his own shock, nodding. Okay, I can just...yeah, I heard him wrong. Just play it off. He definitely said 'I want you'. We're fine. Everything's fine...

He keeps talking. "I know I'm not...well, this is never gonna be conventional, Rach. The age difference, and...my life is pretty crazy, and-"

"Robert," I stop him,regathering myself and pulling him back into my personal space until my chest is pressed against his. "I need you to listen, okay?"

He swallows and nods, narrowing his eyes as his brain tries to figure me out. I hold his gaze, doing my best to keep a straight face.

"First, shut up," I scold, not giving him time to interject. "Second, take me to your trailer and fuck me before I go home and do it myself."

He jaw drops at the last part, breath hitching in his chest when I lean in so my lips are hovering over his own, just a light, feathery touch against them...enough to make him go mad. I have no idea where this sudden over confidence came from, but I go with it, and it doesn't look like he's complaining.

"Something wrong, Mr Stark?" I tease with a whisper.

"Ms Thomas, you're playing a game you can't win," he retorts, and soon after, his hand is on my ass, squeezing, but refusing to give in to the kiss, either.

So, I repeat myself. "Take me to your trailer, Mr Downey."

He groans again and caves. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

Grabbing my hand, he leads me into the group of white trailers, quickly locating his own and ushering me up and inside behind him. When I'm in, he shuts the door behind me and immediately presses me up against it, going at my neck with his warm mouth. I let a moan slip as my hands tug at his shirt, quickly lifting it over his head when he breaks away and tossing it aside.

When he pounces back on me, he stops to suck on my earlobe, blowing gently right after, which sends chills down my body.

"Shit," I gasp as his hand runs under my shirt and to my chest, grabbing and tugging at my one side as he grinds himself against my hip.

"I've been thinking of this for too long," he informs me, a whisper in my ear.

My head rolls back as my body reacts to his words, flaming up with heat. Then, he's grabbing my hips, lifting me up, and I use whatever energy I have left to wrap my legs around his waist, locking my lips with his again.

Before I know it, I land on the small bed in the back of the trailer, Robert falling over me with a short pause in our kiss. His hands tug at his own pants, so I unbutton my own and kick them off before wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him back down, mouth on his. His tongue slips in and fights mine for dominance, his teeth biting my lip in the process.

I gasp, granting him full access, when I feel his fingers run along my lower half, teasing before pulling my underwear away. He fumbles to get them off of my ankles, but eventually succeeds and stabilizes himself above me on one arm while his hand seeks out my core again. I feel him slip in his index finger, followed by his middle finger, and he slowly starts thrusting as he carries out our sloppy kiss.

I can't help but pause to breathe, and then he watches as my head falls back and I squeeze my eyes closed, nails digging into his shoulders above me. Moan after moan is falling from my mouth, lips pressed together momentarily until he begins to go harder, curling his fingers each time he dives into me.

"You like that?" he asks in a breathy whisper, slowing his pace a little, which drives me mad.

"Fuck..." I whine, squirming beneath him as my eyes shoot open to react. "I want you."

He smirks, then tugs down his boxers and grabs for the built in drawer next to the mattress, grabbing a condom from it and tearing the wrapper before pulling it on. He pulls my hips, tugging me toward him, but tosses my legs over his waist, positioning himself at my entrance. Then, he's pushing in, and he's leaning down as far as my body allows, pressing another kiss against my lips that I steal.

He doesn't hesitate this time; he pulls his length out, then fills me completely again and makes me cry out. His hands tangle in my hair, and he's helping me stay attached to his kiss without tiring out too much. Then he's picking up the pace, thrusting into me with absolutely no delicacy whatsoever. With each one, I groan into his mouth, trying my best to keep quiet.

Finally, he lets me breathe and braces himself against me, leaning back and holding my hips in place so he can focus on his movements.

"Holy fuck..." I breathe, feeling the trailer rock from under us.

"You're fucking perfect," he answers, panting already. "You know that?"

I cry out when he goes faster, giving no time to think. "Christ, Robert..."

His eyes darken and burn into mine. "My name sounds good on you."

I feel my cheeks redden from a strong blush, but he isn't playing games. He's turned on by it, so I comply.

"Fuck..." I moan again. "Robert...shit, I'm...I'm close, I..."

"Come for me, babe," he demands, eyes still watching me, but I arch my back and close mine in pleasure. "I'm not gonna stop till you do."

And that's enough to toss me over the edge, crying out his name one more time before I feel him tense and slow, falling over me as his own hits him.

"That whole demanding side of you," I comment after some fast breathing. "It's hot."

He chuckles, kissing my shoulder as he waits for energy to return. Shortly after, he excuses himself to the bathroom to clean up. When he returns, he's climbing up to scoop me in his arms, both of our hearts still beating uncontrollably. I keep my eyes closed, feeling content and happy, stuck in a wave of surprise and bliss, and I think he can tell. He fits perfectly around me...comfortable, warm...

After we steady our breathing, he sighs and breaks the silence.

"Don't fall asleep on me," he teases, kissing my cheek and pushing himself off the bed to re-clothe.

I mumble out a complaint, but peek an eye open to watch him tug his shirt back on. "Can't we just take a nap?"

He chuckles, grabbing my arm and helping me into a sitting position. "Trust me, I want that more than anything, but I promised Jimmy I'd meet him at the bar. And that was...like a half hour ago."

I sigh and nod when he kisses the top of my head. Then, he tosses my own scattered clothes at me, signaling for me to get dressed.

"Come on," he encourages. "You're coming with me."

"I'm...what?" I ask, blinking.

He rolls his eyes, headed toward the bathroom to fix his hair up so it isn't one hundred percent obvious he just had sex...even though the entire crew probably knew by now.

"If I'm not drinking," he calls back, "I'm gonna need some kind of company! And...we can talk. You know, about...things."

I frown at his comment as I dress, and when he walks back in, he sighs and wraps his arms around my hips, sensing my reaction.

"Relax," he assures me, staring at me with those puppy dog eyes he's so infamous for. "Can't I just bring my girlfriend along to dinner?"

I feel my stomach do flips again, for probably the tenth time tonight. "Girlfriend?" I repeat dumbly.

He smirks. "Unless you don't wanna go public yet, but I don't think it matters anymore since we kinda sealed the deal here..."

"But..." I protest, thinking about our history. "What about the pills and Charlie, and-"

He pecks my lips to silence me, an interruption I'm becoming quite fond of. "All in the past...right?" he asks, scanning me for confirmation.

I nod.

"Good. Then it doesn't matter. I know there's shit to discuss, and we will, but... Plus, have you seen the tabloids? They've been shipping us together since the single dropped."

"Even though-"

"I'm like twice your age?" he jokes. "Yup."

"That's not what I was gonna say," I snap. "I'm just...no one. You're you. You're Robert Downey Jr. You're famous...one of the biggest actors out there."

He grins, impressed with me stroking his ego. "Don't forget sexy, handsome-"

I roll my eyes. "Short."

His mouth hangs open dramatically while he lets me go, his hand flying over his chest in fake hurt. "I am four inches taller than you, thank you very much!"

I raise an eyebrow. "Have you been reading my driver's license?"

"Maybe... Or just your fan accounts online," he grins. "The fan girls know more about you than I do."

"I have fan accounts?!" I ask innocently, realizing I must have missed a lot on the internet the past month.

"Ah, ah, ah," he teases. "Don't you change the subject! You haven't answered yet."

"Answered what?" I ask innocently.

He smiles, lifting my chin with his finger to look me in the eyes. "Can I be your boyfriend?"

I can't help but giggle. "What, is this high school?"

He pouts, trying to pull his best sad face, which ironically isn't that good with me, despite being an actor. "If you don't want to, we should probably talk about what we just did, then..."

I smack his chest playfully and lean in for a soft kiss, smiling against his lips in amusement. I can hear him hum in approval back, so I pull away before he gets any more ideas.

"I'm pretty sure this is all a dream, but even if it is...I would love to be your girlfriend," I whisper.

I force myself to get decent and not feel the urge to freak out or panic about meeting up with Jimmy, or anything else of the sort. This is happening. I can finally, finally be happy...as crazy as it is. I mean, who the hell thought I'd ever end up with him? Not me. But hey, I'm making my own decisions. Letting myself be happy without second guessing myself. And he is in full agreement.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Lots of fluff, some smut. Just to make up for the drama and tide you over...may not update for a few days. Heavily working on costume stuff to prep for con season.

I know we're supposed to meet Jimmy, but we don't make it very far. Like, the car. That's about it.

Robert turns the engine on, but then reaches over to mess with my hair...in a nice way, and then his hand lingers on my cheek afterwards.

"It's kinda all over the place..." he smirks, warm eyes on me with a new type of softness. "Don't want to give em the wrong idea..."

"What idea would that be?" I tease, biting my lip.

God, do I love this...him being able to touch me, be being able to tease him... Like we've never been uncomfortable around each other.

"That you just had sex with your new award winning actor boyfriend..." he whispers, and just before he leans in, my eyes flicker between his own and his lips.

And we sit, kissing...making out, honestly. It's slow and gentle and caring and I have so many emotions running through me as he leaves soft pecks on my mouth before tracing my lip with his tongue. And then the taste of him...just as good as before, but this time I can focus on it. He parts once, reapplying, then twice, then...so many more times, his hand still on my cheek.

Until his phone buzzes in the center console and interrupts us.

He sighs, pulling back with a lazy smile, and answers.

"What?"

"You standing me up?" I make out, making me laugh next to him.

"No, I'm coming. I'm on my way now...we're on our way..."

I don't understand whatever he says next, but Robert just replies with "yeah" and that's it.

Then he starts driving, telling me it's only a short trip into the small town we wandered around before...and thankfully, it's quiet tonight, so we can talk.

"So how long are you here?" he asks when he sets the phone back down.

Then his hand wanders into my lap, and I watch as he interlaces his fingers with mine, making me blush. Yeah, we just had sex and made out for an hour, but this makes me blush. It's so intimate and soft and...

"Sorry," he says hesitantly after a second, trying to remove it. "Would you rather I-"

"No, no," I whisper, clutching his hand in mine to keep him from taking it away. "Sorry. Um...I actually don't know. I just...have off this week. My show is still on for LA on Thursday, but..." I sigh. "I didn't really have a plan."

"Okay..." he answers simply, thinking, so I go on.

"They wanted me to apologize to everyone involved. So I convinced Devin to help get me here. I had no intentions on...this, though."

"What, getting into bed with me?" he teases, then senses I'm being serious, so he squeezes my hand for reassurance. "I understand. I kind of shut you out there. You gotta know I did it for your own good, Rach..."

"It's okay.." I whisper again, stroking the back of his hand with my thumb subconsciously.

"So where are you staying then?" he moves on. "Same place?"

I hesitate again. "Currently...no where..."

Glancing at me, he looks confused. "Wait, so you actually came all the way here just to say sorry?"

"Yeah."

"What if I didn't want to talk?"

"I...guess I was just hoping you would," I answer sadly, and then comes another squeeze from him.

"Okay. We'll get you set up at the hotel again. ...If you want to stay."

I smile over at him, catching his eye for just a second, and nod. "I do...at least for a little while."

"Good." Then, more serious. "I don't really want to say this, but I have to, okay? Nothing meant to be offensive or condescending, but... Rachel, I want nothing more than to have a happy, healthy relationship with you. I have for a while, even if I fought that idea out of my head. But I need you to be aware...the second you go back to anything without coming to me first, I'm out. I'm not trying to be a hard ass, but that shit can't happen."

I take a deep breath, trying not to let the words hurt me, but I knew we'd have to talk about this eventually. So I man up and nod again, placing my other hand over his to confirm.

"I know. You're right."

"And I would really like to hear about everything...since. Tonight, if you wouldn't mind," he adds. "Just once, just to clear the air and start this fresh."

"Okay," I agree. "Thank you, by the way..." I add, realizing I never said that.

"For?"

"Handling the finances..." I admit. "Calling them and making them help..."

He smiles softly, focused on the road. "I care about you. You know that, right?"

I swallow nervously, thinking about what I thought I heard earlier. "Yeah...even though I have no idea why."

That makes him laugh, so he relaxes a little and shakes his head. "You kept shutting me out, in Malibu. That right there caught my interest. And then it turns out we have more in common than I realized."

"What, a drug addiction?" I smirk, then retract that statement, feeling bad.

"We've both been through shit. But that's not all."

I don't push to hear why; we've been over it before...music, meditating, animals, traveling...whatever.

"Just couldn't get you off my mind, once you started coming around in New York," he continues, and I smile, looking down at our hands. "And tonight...whatever this new you is, I like it."

I take it as a compliment. I guess rehab did give me confidence. Make myself happy, right? 

 

When we near the bar, I can already spot them; the few cameras gathered outside with word that the cast may be hanging out after shooting for the day. My mind quickly jumps back to every time I've been tossed into the press so far with him. The photos of us at the wedding circling around, then the dance at the benefit... This time, it won't be a lie if they guess...

"Hey," I hear from my side as he pulls into the lot, his hand gently releasing from mine and resting on my knee. "You okay?"

I smile back. "Yeah. I think. I just..."

"Cameras freaking you out a little?" he smiles, reading my mind.

I nod slowly, shooting him a look that apologizes all in its own. "Maybe... Would it be okay if we..."

"Keep things under wraps for a little while?" he guesses.

Thankfully he doesn't sound upset. I nod again, forcing another smile and he grins wider, squeezing my knee again.

"It's fine, Rach," he agrees. "I'm a private guy, anyway. Sort of. We can take it slow. We'll just be friends tonight, yeah?"

I frown, hoping he doesn't think I don't want to date him. "Just in public. I mean, I still..."

He chuckles, pulling into the parking lot and letting the engine shut off. "You're still my girl, relax."

I sigh and smile a genuine one for once, unbuckling my seat belt as he opens his door and walks around to mine, holding it open and helping me out.

"Just don't look at 'em, I'll be right behind. Just over and in and they won't bother us anymore. Good?"

"Good," I confirm, squeezing his hand once before letting our touch drop to mask the relationship until we're inside.

And man, is that awkward. At least he leads me to a corner table in the back, past prying eyes as he gives a small wave to those who recognize him off the bat. Jimmy smiles though, scooting over to make room for us, and I slide in first, sitting between them.

"Sorry, if I'm the third wheel here..." I mumble awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck.

"If anyone's the third wheel, it's him," Robert says with a grin, tossing his arm across the back of the booth and letting his leg rest over his knee. "Jim, you remember Rachel?"

"How could I forget?" he answers kindly, flashing me my own smile. "Welcome back, Pittsburgh."

"Thanks..." I answer, still panicked a little about this situation, so I crack a joke next. "So...three junkies walk into a bar..."

It's awkwardly quiet for a moment, before Robert laughs his high pitched laugh Jimmy joins in, and then I can finally let out that breath I've been secretly holding.

"Sorry," I laugh as well. "I don't really know what to say here, so..."

"Weird, right?" Robert grins, and then Jimmy agrees.

"Gonna get some apps," Jimmy says next, standing to head to the bar to order. "Want a water?"

"One for the girlfriend, too," Robert answers, receiving a raised eyebrow from his buddy.

"About time..."

When he looks back, I'm just blinking, staring at him with shock. I thought we agreed...

"Relax," he tells me, reading me well and leaning in over the table, hands in his lap. "You know I gotta tell him. He won't say anything."

I sigh, admitting defeat. "Okay."

"You can tell Devin, if you want," he suggests, and I shake my head immediately. 

"Oh, no, that is a terrible idea. She'd spill instantly."

He laughs, then sips the water Jimmy returns with, and I can't help but admire him from the side, taking in the soft features of his face, where the laughs lines lie and where his eyelashes land over his cheek bones...the trim of his beard for Tony and that adorable curve of his nose. He's a fucking God.

"So..." he starts next as he grabs a chip from the apps in the middle of the table. "He's in jail, huh? My turf..."

I stare at the table, taking a deep breath at the mention of Charlie. I want to panic, but it's not as bad as usual...and the feeling of Downey's hand covering mine under the table, outside of public view, makes that feeling completely disappear.

"Two years," I confirm, "unless they give him parole."

"He deserves it," he mumbles. Then, "did you talk about it with the therapist at all?"

I sigh, nodding. "They think I have daddy issues," I smirk, and Jimmy has never laughed harder in his life, at least from what I've seen.

Robert scowls, taking offense immediately, and I can't help but start laughing, too.

"No, no!" Robert protests, sulking. "That's not funny. I'm not that old, I'm-"

"Relax," I tell him, catching my breath. "They just think I need order...cause my dad wasn't around at all."

He sighs, sitting back again. "Just don't go yelling daddy in the bedroom..." he mumbles.

I shake my head in humor. "Don't worry, I don't plan to."

And then he asks about the rest of the stay. The things I did, the people I talked to. I try to recap everything I can, and he's listening with genuine interest, his eyes warm and caring, and his focus hasn't wavered from my since the comment earlier. Until about midnight, when Jimmy decides to excuse himself for the night, convincing us to do the same.

"You headed home?" he asks Robert, who shakes his head.

"I got an early shoot. Heading back to set."

I tune them out after that, as they chat about the upcoming week for a few minutes. My gaze wanders under the table again, as he holds onto my hand, even now. It's cute...Charlie never did these things. I never wanted him to. And I can't believe I'm so comfortable with this...with a new relationship, so soon. But I think part of me always had an idea that this might happen...at least after he decided to drag me to New York.

While they finish up, I go for my phone, noting Devin's asking what's going on. I don't answer her, but slyly decide to sneak a photo of his hand in mine. I'm hopeful the internet doesn't recognize that bracelet on his wrist, but I know they probably will... Regardless, for experiment, I toss it on Instagram, not tagging him, but just adding a heart emoji. I know Devin doesn't use Instagram much, though she does have an account. Oh well, I can play it down...

After a few moments, I blindly wave goodbye to Jimmy, pocketing my phone again, and then Robert's detaching his hand from mine for public display.

"Wanna head back?" he asks me softly, attention back on me. "I have a spare toothbrush and a shower, and you can use my clothes for now. I'll take you shopping tomorrow."

Holy hell. My boyfriend wants to take me shopping? As much as I hate shopping...good choice, Rachel. Good choice.

We repeat out exit after I agree to head back with him, ducking from the cameras and slipping into his car. There's no questions, just a few flashes, and then we're smoothly on our way. He gives my hand a break this time, which is okay, because I take the time to watch him, thinking. He's so freaking pretty, even this late at night. I can tell he's tired, too, so it's a comfortable silence. Eventually, I lean my head back in the car and close my eyes, enjoying the open air on my face.

When we pull in, he quietly parks and turns off the engine, then sits back in his seat as well, looking up.

"You've been quiet. What's up?"

I smile and look at him from the passengers seat, feeling my cheeks heat up. "Just relaxed. Everything's okay now, you know?"

He chuckles lightly, still staring up. "It poured here for a week. Then you show up and the skies are clear."

I raise an eyebrow, looking back up and observe the stars shining in the sky above. It isn't the best view...the lights from the lot are pretty bright...but there's enough dark sky to see them. God, do I love summer. I really need to move south...or west...or somewhere where I can do this every night of the year.

But suddenly I'm caught off guard, when he speaks again, voice more delicate than ever.

"You know...I played this off earlier when I let it slip and I tried telling myself all night it's too early but we have such a fucked up history over the past seven months and...I'm just gonna say it," he rambles.

I let my head drop back down, turning his direction, and he's looking straight at me, not the sky anymore. He's nervous. He doesn't hide that well.

"I love you, Rachel."

I think I forget to breathe, because I'm stuck staring, literally hearing my heart skipping from inside my chest. I'm in shock. Denial. It's early, but shit...he's right, November was seven months ago.

"It's okay," he tosses in when I don't answer, eyes still on mine, "if you don't feel the same, or if you want to be upset with me...I just...I tried pushing it down, tried pushing you to have your own separate life, especially after what happened to you and...and yet here we are."

I finally remember to breathe, focusing on that to make sure I don't pass out from the overwhelming adrenaline I have right now.

"Okay..." he goes on, "I fucked up, huh? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"I love you too," I whisper, remembering what the therapist asked in rehab; he was right...and I don't know how to handle this because what I felt for Charlie wasn't what this is, and it scares me.

"Are you sure?" he asks, and I nod, my lips tugging up.

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure."

He sighs in relief, running a hand through his hair, then he's quick to open the door and give me his hand to help me out. I take it, standing, but instead of leading me back toward the trailers, he settles his hands on my hips and ducks down to press a tender kiss on my lips, simple and perfect.

After a moment of letting it linger, he pulls back, dark eyes warm and happy, and I bite my lip, grinning. The doctor was right...I don't have to run from things, I can be happy. I can let myself be happy.

"Let's go inside," he suggests, checking his watch briefly. "It's late."

I nod, and he wraps his arm around my waist, free hand in his pocket, and walks step in step with me, content.

And then I remember... "I know I said to keep things slow, and I hope you're not mad, but..."

"The photo?" he asks suddenly, grinning.

I open my mouth to speak but feel overly embarrassed so nothing comes out until, "you saw it?"

"Of course," he confirms. "Believe it or not, I have notifications on for some people...some people being you."

I roll my eyes and sigh, ducking my head again in embarrassment.

"Hey!" he calls, pulling me into his side as we walk, his head tilted down to look at me as he speaks. "It's cute."

"I just wanted to see what the reactions would be..." I tell him honestly. "I didn't tag you or anything."

He rubs his hand up and down the upper part of my arm that it's rested on and laughs. "Rach, it's fine. Whenever you're ready. I'm not going anywhere. I think I just made that clear."

And that makes my stomach knot and my heart flutter. No one's ever promised that before and made me feel like they meant it. But with Downey...I can just tell. He's sincere, and kind, and so much more than I deserve after everything between us.

He steps away momentarily to unlock the trailer door, and then reaches for my hand to help me up the stairs. When I'm inside, he shuts the door and lets his jacket fall off, placing it on the hanger in the small closet to the left.

"You know," he adds quietly, running his hand across my waist as he steps closer to me. "I happen to think our hands fit perfectly together."

"You think?" I murmur, my lips tugging up as his hips brush against mine and he leans in.

"Mhmm," he hums, eyelids heavy with his focus on my lips. "Perfect. Just like you. Us..."

"I love you," I whisper, feeling his breath on me as he hovers above my mouth.

"You have no idea how much I love hearing that," he mumbles, and then he closes the distance, gently placing his lips on mine in a soft kiss.

I instinctively run my hands up his chest and around his neck, twisting in the hair at the base of his neck as we slowly kiss, parting every so often for quick breaths of air. He takes a step, shifting us into the bedroom, and then I feel his hands lift from my hips to tug my shirt from my belt. Then, his fingers touch my skin underneath as he slides it up, slowly but surely, until I have to break our kiss to slip it back off over my head, for the second time that day. He shrugs off his own right after, followed by his loose yoga pants, then slowly undoes my button on my jeans and allows me space to step out of them. We're in nothing but our underwear, close but not touching...not yet.

Robert doesn't kiss me again, though. No, instead, he lets his eyes travel across my skin, slowly releasing the straps of my bra until they fall down my shoulders. They're dark and full of emotion...full of care, and it makes me shiver as he takes me in. Then, he quickly undoes the clasp at my back, the material falling and leaving my top bare.

My heart is picking up speed, watching as he traces his fingers across my collar bone, swallowing nervously before looking back up at me. What is he possibly nervous about now?

I don't have to wait long to find out, because he leans his head against mine, his hands traveling down my sides, tickling slightly, until they rest back on my hips. I can see him through his boxers, waiting, but I don't comment on it. It doesn't seem appropriate right now. The mood's different.

"I want to make love to you tonight, Rach," he whispers, letting out a heavy breath, which tickles my nose. "Not sex, or fucking, or..." He swallows and shakes his head slightly, intensifying my chills with his sincerity. "I want you to know how much I care. I want to give you what he never did..."

Robert's eyes blink back up into mine, waiting for a response, and I'm staring like an idiot, trying not to be too emotional over something so simple. I really don't deserve him at all.

I take a deep breath and run my thumb over his cheek, cupping his face gently. "You already have."

He doesn't give a chance for any more words before he pecks a light kiss back on my lips before claiming them in whole again, this time letting his wet tongue trace my lower lip and ask for access. I grant it almost immediately, allowing him in and gently flicking my own against his, taking in his taste and breathing in his scent through my nose. My hands wander into his hair and we press back further, my legs running into the bed. I lean back, pulling him with me, and when we hit the mattress, he slowly parts, trailing soft, wet kisses from my jawline down my neck and to my ear, where he knows I'm sensitive. I inhale sharply as he nips at the skin, sucking and licking at my weak spot below my earlobe until I'm nearly digging my nails into his head. He's leaving a mark, and I don't want to stop him.

I bite my lip when he finally moves on, his head traveling down as he kisses my collar bone and hooks his fingers in my lace underwear, dropping them down to my knees and past my feet to land on the floor with the rest of our clothes. My hands slip down to his broad shoulders, feeling each muscles as the run across his heated skin. I've missed those toned muscles, perfectly strong but not overpowering. He may be older, but he has a body and soul that screams otherwise.

Finally, when he grabs at my breasts, I let out a gasp and shift my hips, anticipating everything from him. He smiles against me, steadying my body as he takes one into his mouth and flicks it with his tongue. My eyes close in enjoyment, my head tilted back against the pillows as he changes sides. Finally, when he ducks lower and releases my chest, my hands lose grip of him and I whimper at the loss.

"Robert," I breathe, lifting my head to look at him as he shoots his puppy dog eyes up at me, never letting his tongue leave my body. "Please...I need you."

My hips shift in desire, wanting his mouth on me, but also wanting him inside of me more than anything else. His eyes sparkle as he grins against my skin, lifting his head for just a second.

"Just relax, Rach," he pleads. "I want to make you feel good."

I groan and lean back when the sudden feeling of his finger encircles my bud between my legs, lightly and teasing as he speaks. Then, he presses down, mixing with the soft kisses right above my center as he moves his hand, knowing just how to get me going. I clench the sheets at my sides instead, whimpering as he continues down and replaces his finger with his tongue, lapping up and down against me until I shudder, coming close to the edge already.

I moan out his name again, then sit up, pulling away from his mouth. "Not this way," I beg. "I want to with you."

He seems to be in agreement, because he's not slow about kicking out of his boxers and grabbing a condom from his drawer. He slips it on while on he kneels on the bed, giving me full view of his body. His chest is bare, probably due to filming, and the muscles in his thighs work to hold himself upright.

I must be drooling like an idiot, because when he clears his throat, I focus on him in the dark light, head tilted and eyebrow raised.

"Like what you see?" he smirks, teasing me.

I blush but bite my lower lip, nodding. "I've never really gotten to look...in person...before..." I mumble awkwardly, remembering the hundreds of times I've seen photos of him almost nude on the internet; none of that does this justice.

He chuckles, but then leans back down over me, hand on either side of my body to support himself. "Good. I'm glad, because this is all yours."

I run my hands back up to the back of his neck and respond by tugging him down for another kiss, slow and searing against my lips. It's almost antagonizing how delicate he is when he parts, slipping in his tongue once more to tangle with mine. Our teeth bump lightly, but neither one of us seem to notice while he shifts to settle between my legs, lining up with my entrance. He slides in slowly, giving me time to adjust, never ending our teasing kisses until he's settled fully inside of me. Then he breaks from my mouth, using his knees to pull back and thrust back in with slow, languid movements. My eyes flutter half open, panting with each rock of the bed when his lips graze my neck again, his head in my shoulder. He's teasing, but firm with his movements, and it's driving me crazy. I want to grab at his hips, beg him to move faster, but something more intense is added when he blindly finds my hand, intertwining my fingers with his as he moves in and out. He lifts it above my head, making my breathing come uneven, closing my eyes again at the closeness.

"Told you they fit perfectly... I love you, Rachel," he whispers with another thrust, his breath and facial hair tickling my neck. "I'm not letting you go again."

With that, my free arm finds his torso and wraps around his back, holding him tightly to me as I hold in the tears that want to slip out. I let my lips find his cheek, placing a very strong kiss there that speaks volumes. His hand tightens in mine, his acknowledgment that he understands, and in this moment, I've never felt so cared for in my life. I want his body on mine, in mine, as close as it can get to mine. Instead, I settle for feeling my lower body start to tighten as he continues his movements, rocking us gently back and forth.

"I'm close," I warn, breathing into his shoulder as he nods against my own.

"Hold out for me. Just a little bit," he asks, picking up the pace just a little bit to give himself a little boost.

I lift my legs around his waist, hooking and settling above his ass to give him deeper access and eliciting a groan from him when he realizes what I'm doing. He starts to become unsteady and I know he's reaching it, slowly but surely. I feel his hand loosen, then tighten in mine again, and he's breathing's shallow. I bite the inside of my mouth, holding on as long as I can before he's kissing my neck again.

"Let go, Rach," he demands, and then we're both coming, my insides closing over his hard member as he unloads into the condom, the heat noticeable even through the latex.

He keeps going for a few more thrusts, riding it out as I feel the last of the waves wash over me, and then he pulls out slowly, not moving his hand from mine or his head from my shoulder. It's hot, and we're both a disaster, but I could care less. I fight my emotions as he blindly lifts his head to peck my cheek before rolling off and disappearing momentarily to the bathroom. Then, he's back on his side, lifting the sheets over our bodies, and grabbing me to pull me against his chest.

I hold my breath, the overwhelming feeling of something I haven't felt in a while threatening to ruin the moment; love. As I fight it, I wind up grabbing his hand that's draped over my waist, squeezing a little too hard, and he notices.

"Rach?" he questions, kissing my shoulder from behind me.

"Yeah?" I manage, trying not to sound upset, but my voice fails and cracks at the end.

I quickly go to wipe away the tears that have slipped out, but he's fast, sitting up on his arm and pulling at my shoulder until I roll onto my back so he can look at me.

"Hey," he almost sings, soft and delicate for his deep voice.

I blink away what's left, even though his finger gently pads at my cheeks to help, a look of concern plastered across is face.

"Hey, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?" he asks, obviously worried.

I shake my head, starting to giggle about how ridiculous I'm being, which probably just freaks him out more. I run my hand over my face, cooling down, before letting my hazel eyes rest on him.

"No, not at all," I promise, rolling over to face him on my side and snuggle into his chest. "I'm just...happy," I admit, as though it's a foreign word to me...and it kind of is.

He sighs, lying down again and holding me against his torso as he rests his chin on top of my head, stroking my hair with his hand.

"It's okay," he hushes and chuckles lightly when he feels me start to steady my breathing again. "Rach, you deserve to be happy, and I want to be the one who makes you happy."

I nod, kissing his pecks lightly to signal I'm agreeing and the feeling's mutual.

"They're gonna know," I tell him sleepily, feeling worn out finally.

"Who?"

"The crew. Tomorrow, when I'm here," I say, muffled by his embrace, but I don't care.

He kisses the top of my head, his body shaking with his laughing at my comment. "They won't tell, if that's what you're worried about," he promises. "Contractual stuff. Even this. What happens on set stays on set till the movie's out."

I nod again. "Okay. Let's just...let's just be us, and if and when someone asks...we'll make it public. I'm not gonna try to hide."

He soothes me still, hands moving down to rub my back, lulling me into sleep. "On one condition," he says quietly.

"What's that?"

"Never let me leave you again," he answers, as sincere as sincere can be, and it hurts.

I fight the urge to cry again, reminding myself what he said earlier. "You already promised not to go anywhere," I inform him, and he chuckles in agreement.

"You got me there. But just in case...just don't give up...please."

I inhale and nod yet again, knowing we both just want reassurance. A promise that nothing is going to come between us again. No age issues, no arguments, not Charlie, no distance...

"Back at ya," I mumble, and the warmth mixed with the grazing of his fingers on my back sends me quickly into sleep after that, content in the cradle of his arms.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for no posts this weekend - was working on some stuff. You can find my weird ass project on Robert's FB post from Sunday, though...he posted my edit, which I commented on with the outfit I was making...ironically his Munich outfit for the IM3 press tour. Just cause I was bored. Anyways...some fluff for you all.

Morning light is shining through the blinds over the windows when I wake up, and for a second I'm confused. But then I sigh, seeing Robert's shoes in a pile on the floor off to the side. I smile, and then realize this isn't like before; there's a weight over my hip, and he's holding me secure against him. When I shift, I feel his arm slide off and up my side. He takes a deep breath, groaning slightly as he wakes up, and God, is it sexy.

When he reaches my shoulder, he pulls me lightly, rolling me over to face him. I do so easily, covers pulled up over my chest between us, and I'm met with the softest of good morning kisses.

"Hey beautiful..." he whispers in his raspy morning voice, peeking an eye open from where his face rests in the pillow.

"You're still here..." I grin, biting my lip.

"I am," he chuckles lightly, music to my ears.

"Mmm..." I mumble out, stretching slightly. "I think I could get used to waking up like this."

"What, naked in bed next to a hot guy?" he jokes, ghosting my shoulder with kisses.

"Naked in bed next to my hot guy," I laugh, and he grins into my shoulder. "But I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

"You keep saying that," he laughs and lays back down facing me, fishing out my hand and interlacing his fingers with it as we slowly wake up.

"This is just too perfect for real life," I murmur, sleepily closing my eyes for a second again. "But I guess your ego is still showing so it must be real," I tease.

With that, he hums into the pillow with fake annoyance but soon after, he's grinning, rolling me over him with skill and his hands attack my sides, watching me squirm.

"Hey!" I laugh, thrashing over him, but he doesn't care.

"My ego?" he grins, giving me no mercy. "You might wanna take that back."

"Okay!" I surrender. "Okay, I'm sorry!"

"Someone's ticklish," he observes with humor and I gasp for breath.

"Stop. Stop, I forfeit!" I say dramatically, and he finally ends the playful torture. "You win..."

"You are adorable when you're smiling," he mumbles, stealing a kiss.

I can't help but smile anyway, running my hands through his messy hair. Then I pull back, letting my eyes travel all of the curves and lines of his face. His eyes are warm; they're brown with specks of gold and absolutely beautiful, as always, but they're here and mine and I sigh stroking his cheek with my thumb. He's so...human, and so normal to me now, but nothing will ever make me forget the celebrity in him...not when I idolized him for so long. This is so confusing but in a good way.

"Thank you, by the way," he tells me, a sincere look on his face despite his lips tugged up slightly at the corners.

I watch as his eyes scan my face and I can't help but blush. "For what?"

"This..." he murmurs. "Being yourself. It's different than when we first met."

"I thought you liked me playing hard to get."

"I did...but that was before I knew the real you."

"Mmm..." I hum, thinking. "Sorry if I disappoint."

He chuckles lightly, his hands finding my sides again as he gently runs them up and down over the sheet. "Quite the opposite..."

He finally kisses me again, lips soft on mine, and he smirks against them, shifting in bed until he rolls us over and pushes himself up and over me. The sheets fall from his shoulders, revealing his broad torso as my fingers trace up his back and I smile back into the kiss, content. The feeling of his skin on mine and his legs tangled up with mine sparks something, and I'm asking him for access to his mouth, slipping my tongue in to taste him slowly.

Until there's a banging at the door which jolts me with panic, nearly jumping out of the bed. I break the kiss, alarm noticeable on my face as I grab at the sheets and hold them to me as I sit up. Robert doesn't seem to care though, until his shirt is tossed at his back to get his attention.

"What the fuck?" he groans, jumping and prying the shirt off his head.

"You're a half hour late!" Jimmy tells him, a little irritation present in his voice. "Put a shirt on, let's go. Makeup's waiting for you."

He scratches his head, only one eye open as he adjusts to the light from outside. "Give me five minutes, geez..."

"You have two," he answers, then awkwardly adds, "morning, Rachel..."

"Hi..." I mumble, pressing my lips together and avoiding eye contact at all costs.

Then he retreats and leaves us alone again. Robert chuckles, pulling his shirt over his head and covering his bare chest. I blink, still shocked, until he turns my head toward him with a finger under my chin.

"Hey, relax," he says quietly. "We knew he knew."

"Yeah, but..."

"I promise if he saw anything it would've been my ass," Downey jokes, pulling me in for a soft hug as he plants a kiss on top of my head. "So uh, I gotta get my butt moving, but is there anything you want for breakfast, or..."

I shake my head. "I'll find something later...but...can I maybe use your shower?"

He smirks, nodding. "Only if you let me join you next time...and don't get mad that I gotta go again," he teases.

I roll my eyes but can't help but grin thinking about it, biting my lip and blushing. He mimics me, but continues as he shifts out of bed and tugs on his pants from the night before.

"So I'm gonna be on stage three, but if you wanna come watch, it's the one-"

I smile, interrupting him. "It's okay, you go do your thing. I might go into town and go pick up some things..."

"You sure?" he asks, eyebrows pressing together until I nod. "All right, well...uh, here, take my card," he offers, tossing his wallet at me. "I'll have the bank authorize it. And some cash for a cab, since I don't have the car today."

My jaw drops, eyes flashing down into my lap and then back up. "Oh no, I can't-"

"Please?" he asks gently, and I know he's not going to take no for an answer.

Grumbling, I do as he requests and hand his wallet back to him, noting how much he must trust me if he's letting me spend his money...

"I shouldn't be too long," he continues. "I'm only needed for half the day, so...how about dinner? Tonight?"

I giggle at his stammering and agree. "It's a date."

"Right," he answers, smiling again, himself. "Uh, how about the tent? You know the one, where we had my party the last time you visited? Say...seven?"

"Sounds perfect," I agree, moving to my knees on the mattress to pull him in, sheets still around my body.

His lips tug up against mine when I place them happily on his, parting with the simplest of sweet kisses that he tries to hold onto when I break it off. He forces a smile, his eyes giving away his sadness that he has to work, but grabs his phone and heads toward the door.

"Don't be late," he teases, and then I'm on my own, though I can hear him outside, immediately hit with people questioning him. "Whoa, kid," he teases, and I can hear a kid's voice reply.

"You're never late!" the boy observes, and I laugh, closing my eyes and shaking my head to myself.

"I had some things to do," Robert defers, but he's a smart kid.

"Some things or someone?"

"Are you in character already, I can't tell," Downey comments.

"Just saying, but the whole place heard you last night..." he mumbles under his breath.

"I'm sorry, how old are you again?"

And then they fade out, so I force my embarrassed self up and into the small bathroom area after finding myself a spare towel in the closet.

I take a quick shower, nothing too special, but since I don't have any of my own toiletries, I wind up using his soap and shampoo, which smells just like him. Some luxury brand I've never heard of, of course, color protecting too. Remind me to tease him later about coloring his hair...

When I locate my clothes, I redress and toss my wet hair up before applying some makeup with the spare on the go samples I always stuff into my bag...glad I brought them along to this! And then I head to the gate, keeping my head low...thankfully, I only pass a couple people who don't comment on my presence, and then I greet the guard out front, requesting a cab like I did last time.

I take it into town, just a few minutes away, and toss on the sunglasses I brought with me just in case...glad I have them. Who knows who could recognize me after that cruise...

And then I stroll for a while, bag over my shoulder and nothing else, not sure what stores are really in town. I definitely need a razor...his is electric and let's be honest...that isn't gonna get everywhere a girl needs it to. Clothes. Clothes are a must, too. At least for the week . Maybe something nice for LA. Maybe I'll just window shop until I find a convenience store or something...maybe get some lunch, too, now that I feel my stomach start to growl.

I go for my phone, wanting to text Robert to tell him I'm going to get some lunch as well, just in case...I feel bad enough about spending his money. And then I remember I still don't have him programmed back in...great. Sighing, I decide to text Devin, the first thing I've said since she reluctantly spotted me money for a flight down here.

R: can you pls give me his number, i have a question and i'm off set

I guess I'll just window shop for a while, then, because I don't want to over spend without approving it with him first... So I take for a street, admiring that they actually have sidewalks here, and let my mind wander elsewhere when I pass a poster for the Avengers in the front window of a comic store...

Of course, I'm sure this town is thrilled to know they're so close to the Marvel sets. And I'm sure if anyone knew my connection here they'd freak out. But none of them know we're so close, so..

God, it's still weird. My boyfriend's face all over the world like this. It's like the Robert I know and the Robert they know are two different people now...but they're the same. Just through the texts and everything else since November...he became my go to, and I swear we talked almost every day...at least for a couple messages. Maybe more so than Devin. And there's still a lot I don't know about him, but...come on, we've shared a bed, and this morning...

Lord, this morning... I would've never imagined he'd be so cute and cuddly like this...and I would've never imagined I would stop being so dismissive. I don't feel that need to build up walls against him...even if some things have hurt, all he's done is help me since we met.

I smile to myself, then feel my phone buzz in my hand, so I snap out of it and look at the incoming call. Ugh, not Devin, but the other evil - kidding - my mother. I sigh, answering it so she doesn't start panicking unnecessarily.

"Yes?" I ask, my normal greeting for her.

"Do you need a ride home?" she asks, and my heart rate picks up as I try to decide if I want to tell her I'm staying or not.

"No, not yet," I answer easily, glancing in the windows as I wander down the street. "I'm still in Atlanta..."

"Oh," she says, sounding rather surprised. "Well, what time's your flight leave? I'll come get you."

"It...I don't know," I admit. "I think I might stay a few days...or..until the show..."

She hesitates, then finally, "things going okay, then?"

"We're talking, yes," I confirm, watching my feet as they walk me forward. And a whole lot more.

"I told you he doesn't hate you," she says softly.

"I know," I answer with a small voice. "We talked it over...I told him everything about those three weeks and Charlie, and..."

"You need to find a guy like him," she sighs. "Someone to be there just in case..."

"In case what, I decide I really do want to kill myself?" I ask sharply, then clear my throat, feeling bad immediately. "Sorry...I don't. Don't worry."

"You know what I mean, Rachel," she answers. "It would be good for you to have someone around."

"Devin's around," I point out, then feel a little over confident. "So is Aero. ...Downey's around..."

"Someone your age," she corrects. "A guy."

I feel my cheeks heat up, knowing what she means. She's always pushing me to try to find someone to date, and God, this will possibly kill her if I tell her...

"He's not that much older..." I mumble, feeling the nerves kick in. "Robert," I specify. "Would it be such a bad thing?" I ponder for a second out loud, anticipating what comes next.

"He's what, fifty?" she sighs.

"Forty-eight," I mumble, correcting her. "His birthday was in April."

"Okay, and you're thirty. That's a seventeen and a half ish year difference."

"Did you just say 'and a half ish'?" I ask, amused by how similar we talk.

"It was quick math!" she defends. "Didn't you check the tabloids since they released you?"

"No, I uh...tried to stay away from those... But I heard they were nearly pushing us together..."

My stomach's doing flips, not wanting to find out, but I'll have to know eventually.

"At first. But your little fling at his birthday or whatever that was had everyone speculating..."

"And?"

"And the internet agrees that seventeen years is-"

"So I'm supposed to be living my life based on the internet now?" I snap, then immediately toss my hand over my face as I slow to a stop on my walk.

Great. That had to tip her off. She isn't even responding. Fuck.

Then, finally, "oh God, Rachel..."

It isn't mad, really. It's just...not even disappointment. More like upset that she wasn't told before anything happened.

I groan, frustrated. "I'm in public and I'm not gonna get into this but...yes. Yes, I like him, okay?"

"Rachel, he's a celebrity."

"So?" I ask, annoyed again.

"He used to date Sarah Jessica Parker, for God's sake..."

"So...you're telling me you don't think he'd ever be interested in me because-"

"I mean...I don't know. You guys talking is still weird..."

"Hey, that was all Erin and Jon!"

She sighs again. "Look, all I'm saying is he's an actor...you can't be sure."

"Mom," I snap, suddenly defensive. "I'm pretty sure."

She's silent again and God, I gotta stop dropping this stuff on her, but my temper has no chill today.

"We agreed not to tell anyone yet so I can't really...just...yes. We're...dating. I know it's weird and it's stupid and I know no one's going to understand but-"

"Rachel," she almost sings, cutting me off. "Take a breath."

"I'm fine..." I lie; I'm nervous as hell.

"You know I have to be the over protective mother every so often, right? Especially after-"

"Your point?"

She laughs, weirdly enough. "But at the same time, that man is fine as hell and he and I had a nice chat that night when...well...point is, I don't know what he's thinking, but if you think you can handle that lifestyle and you like him for him and not just cause you have his posters hanging up in your living room, then-"

"I do," I sigh. "I mean, it's still a little weird, but I'm so comfortable, mom. You know how hard things have been, and I push so many people out...but he's always there...and I'm still in shock, but-"

"Is he at least as good a kisser as we all imagine?" she interrupts, and there's that hint of my mother that she's been missing since the accident.

I bite my lip, blushing, thinking about the feel of his facial hair against my skin every time we share a kiss...no matter where he kisses. "He's good...at everything..."

"Rachel!" she nearly screams, and I pull my phone back for a second.

"Uh, ow!" I grumble dramatically.

"Are you telling me you've...are you-"

"Mom..." I groan. "Please don't freak out, okay? It isn't new, it's...the relationship is, but that started back in April when..."

"Shit..." she whispers suddenly. "Rachel, do you really think that's a good idea then?"

"I didn't do it because of him..." I sigh. "It was all Charlie..I just wanted to get a clear head so I came back home and.... He didn't do anything wrong."

"My daughter's sleeping with a movie star..." she mutters to herself, and I can't tell if she's panicking or jealous or what. "You're at least being safe, right?"

"Mom!" I gasp, blushing furiously now. "Okay, I'm thirty, I really don't need the talk right now..."

"But he's respectful, and-"

"Please stop..." I beg, leaning against a tree to focus.

"Give me something here," she laughs finally, and I realize we really don't talk about this...sex...ever - not even when I was younger. "This has been your fucking dream for years, if I'm not allowed to be the parent, I at least have to know-"

"He's...spectacular..." I say through a grin. "And please, please don't say anything to anyone...not even Devin. It's nerve wracking enough..and I just don't want him to get bored...you know? I'm sure he's used to just basic drama and...sex...but..." I mumble.

"So figure out what his kinks are," she teases.

"I..." I stammer, looking up, then realize there's a lengerie store directly ahead of me. "Hey, I gotta go, I'll call you when I figure out details..."

She questions me but I hang up the call before my boldness fades and march into the store. God, I've never worn anything like this before...not at all. And I can't possibly tell anyone what's it's for, so I can't even ask for recommendations from the girl at the counter...

I'm really just a mess the entire time I'm in the store, and there's not really much else I can tell you. Eventually, I stumble upon something on the mannequin in blue...simple, just a pair of lace shorts and bra, and probably the most conservative I could go. Honestly, I hate my body, but he doesn't seem to mind, so...I decide to be humorous and pick a gold top and red shorts, since we're filming his alter ego and all... The girl at the counter glances at me when I go to checkout, and I completely pay with cash for this one, just in case he's monitoring the purchases. Thankfully, she doesn't say much and then I'm relieved to leave and find somewhere to pick up some toiletries and normal clothes.

At some point, Devin finally texts me back, arguing me about the number, and I don't bother replying. I can't explain this one right now...I know she'll freak out and spill if I tell her, and I don't know...I kind of want to make sure we can make it a couple weeks before we start telling everyone... So, I get some food with my own spare cash that I had left, not wanting to waste any more of his money before buying a couple new outfits and real underwear from a store nearby.

When I return, it's already getting close to the time Robert gave me for dinner, so I hurry to his trailer, hoping he hasn't been waiting for me there. Thankfully, it's empty, so I quickly fumble through my bags and pull out the lingerie set I bought, making a courageous decision to slip it on under a casual black dress I grabbed just in case this was supposed to be sort of formal. Honestly, we haven't discussed his likes and dislikes yet, but I hope it will do the trick. I've never really been this bold, so it's a step at fixing my self esteem...as if becoming Robert Downey Jr's girlfriend wasn't enough for that.

Finally, I put the bed together from last night, noting we never really did make it again, and then grab my phone, hurrying out and to the left...if I remember correctly. There's a couple different spots that could've looked like where I should've gone, but when I approach what I think is the right tent, I'm certain. Slowly, I enter, taken aback by the decor.

He's strung soft fairy lights all around, setting a romantic mood i the space. And as if that isn't enough, at the center of the long table, there's a lit candle and two served places, a few rose petals scattered next to the wine glasses he's filled with something of a Rose color in one and clear in the other...probably water for him. My mouth hangs open in awe, my heart confused with whether to be excited or so surprised I want to cry. I kick that urge fast; there was enough crying the night before.

And then he skips in with a couple of folded napkins, slowing down awkwardly as he notices my arrival. He places them down at the table, respectively, then sheepishly looks back at me, approaching with a dorky swing of his step. He's about as casual as I am; still in a dress shirt that's probably from costume, and a pair of dark jeans.

"Sorry," he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. "I thought I still had time and I was running late earlier, or-"

"I'm early," I comfort. "I would've come later, but I wasn't expecting..."

He grins as I look around the tent, still stunned by the beauty of it all. This is so unlike anything anyone's ever done for me before, so it pulls at my heart...hard.

"You uh...you like it?" he asks after watching me analyze the table, waiting hopefully for a positive answer.

I nod and step toward him, slipping my arms around his neck and placing a soft kiss on his thin lips.

"I love it," I answer, then softer. "And I love the dinner setup, too."

And as if everything my mother had me questioning earlier had never existed, I'm certain he's being truthful with me about his intentions. Once again, he's surprising the hell out of me.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there's smut somewhere in this mess.

I am absolutely just blown away. Charlie would have never done anything like this for me...ever. It was all about display. Taking me places, making sure everyone knew I belonged to him. Which is sometimes nice, but...not with that guy.

Robert smiles against my lips when I kiss him a second time, his hands on my hips, dangerously close to the top of the lace bottoms I was hiding, but he doesn't notice.

"I wanted to take you on a real first date, but work, and I know you wanted to lay low, and..." he rambles, taking my hand and leading me to my seat.

He pulls the chair out, motioning for me to sit, then pushes me in and wanders his way around the long table to the other side.

"Gwyneth helped out," he continues when he sits. "Her company kinda does this stuff all the time, and I was clueless, I'm not gonna lie..."

I can't help but laugh lightly as he stammers through the explanation, almost afraid I was lying when I said I liked it. I look at him, catching his eyes with a soft look, and smile.

"It's perfect. I mean that. I wasn't expecting this at all," I admit.

He pulls for his napkin, motioning for me to do the same, and drops his gaze to the plates. "So I know we kinda talked about what you eat and what you don't eat and everything while you were back in PA, so I tried to stick to what I remembered. I had my chef toss this together..."

I look at the food on the table; bread in a basket, grilled chicken with some spice, and a vegetable mix; perfect for protein and healthy at the same time. I feel that skip in my heart again, beyond happy that he remembered what we talked about so long ago.

"You have a chef?" I ask, surprised I didn't realize that before, and he takes that the wrong way, frowning.

"Would you want something else? Cause I can call him back."

"No, no, it's great," I answer kindly. "And it looks delicious."

He sighs with relief, picking up his glass. "Good. Good, I was worried, you know, that I got something wrong..."

I chuckle and take a sip of my own, tasting the sweet liquid as it washes down my throat. "You don't do this dating thing much, do you?" I observe, and he looks guilty.

"Ya caught me," he admits. "It's usually just...it's been a while. I don't normally like...'date' either. I mean, I'm not scooping up girls like Tony, but there were a few one night things, and..."

His face changes immediately when he notices my smile fade and he grabs for my hand before it leaves the table after setting the glass down.

"Not recently, though!" he hurries to add. "Not in a while, actually." I raise an eyebrow, so he continues to try to pull himself out of the hole. "And you're not... Rach, I swear you're not like that, okay? You mean so much more to me, and-"

"Robert!" I scold finally, unable to hold the straight face as I burst into laughter. "Stop. Take a breath, please? Where's the confident man I'm used to, hmm? I'm not upset. I'm...extremely surprised and honestly, this is probably the most romantic thing anyone's ever done..."

He smiles, eyes focused on me as his hand stays rested on mine on the table. "Okay...okay, yeah. It's just...it's our first date, and I just wanted to make sure it went well, and..."

"First official date," I correct. "But we've been on plenty before without realizing it," I point out. "The premiere, all of those dinners and the parties..."

"I'm gonna take you somewhere nice, I swear," he decides shortly after. "When you're ready to go public."

I smirk, pulling my hand away, and he looks like a lost puppy, I swear. 

"Relax," I tease. "I just want to enjoy this before it gets cold."

He nods, relaxing his shoulders a little as he sits back and goes for his own plate.

"Just...give me a few weeks, okay?" I request, thinking out loud. "After the show...after I figure out how to tell Devin..."

"Okay, yeah. Take your time. I know this is asking a lot...tossing you into the spotlight like this," he sighs.

"I mean...it's all about to change Thursday anyway..." I tell him, taking a bite; yeah, this food's to die for.

"Are you ready?" he asks, focus still on me over the food.

I take a drink and then a deep breath, thinking. "I think so. I'm nervous. Really nervous. But I did some work on some material for those few weeks in rehab, and I think I can pull off four or five songs...as long as I remember how to breathe."

He narrows his eyes in humor, lips tugged up. "Just think of them all in their underwear. Isn't that what they say?"

"Is that what you do when you're nervous?" I ask, laughing at his childish comment.

"I don't get nervous," he smirks, and I roll my eyes...there's cocky Robert again. "Just...think of me in my underwear, then."

I blush, nearly choking on the bite of chicken I take. "Yeah, cause that will help..." I mumble.

"Would it?" he grins. "I can arrange for that."

"And then everyone will know we're dating," I say with a raised eyebrow. 

"You know, I don't think I'll ever get tired of you saying that," he announces.

I exhale slowly, feeling that new warmth of happiness flow through me as he gazes at me with his soft chocolate eyes.

"I can come with my clothes on, if you want," he suggests after a few moments of silent eating, and I snicker.

"That's what she said," I tease, and he shows his teeth with a wide smile.

"Miss Thomas, how inappropriate for a first date!" he jokes.

"Oh, then we shouldn't talk about what happened between the sheets last night, should we? You know, when you let the whole set know we were fucking..."

He swallows hard on a piece of broccoli and clears his throat, adjusting his collar. "Language, Rachel..." he jokes, "what would your mother think?"

And that makes me drop my fork on my nearly empty plate, realizing I never really told him I told her. "Well, uh..." I stammer, more serious now. "I actually talked to her earlier today..."

He says nothing but raises his brow, tilting his head and waiting for me to go on.

I pick at the last of my food, trying to figure out how to lie about what we talked about, because he does not need to know we talked about how he is in bed.

"She knows."

"And?"

"She's...conflicted, but okay. I guess I was in the gossip columns with you while I was away, and they aren't taking the age difference very well...even just for speculation."

He shrugs, taking another bite. "It's been off and on. Some disagree, some are trying to get us together."

"She likes you, though," I comment, finishing off my plate. "Since you saved my life and all..."

"Just good timing..." he says sincerely. "Saw the warning signs and followed you back. You did the rest yourself."

I smile, reaching to finish off my glass of wine, only he grabs my hand again after pushing his plate out of the way.

"You," he continues, "are one of the strongest people I've ever met."

"I highly doubt that," I laugh.

"Trust me...you are. But enough of that, this is a date, not NA."

I nod, agreeing, squeezing his hand in mine in thanks. "So tell me about filming today?"

He goes on for a few minutes, telling me of the mistakes Gwyneth made in her lines the past few weeks, grinning like a child and laughing as he remembers it. I'm just blown away by how happy he is talking about his work, so I listen intently, until he moves on to the scenes they shot this morning.

"So Ty," he starts, "he's playing this kid Tony meets, and-"

"The one who called you out this morning?" I ask, laughing when I swear he blushes a little.

"Little shit's too mature for his age," he shakes his head, but in good taste. "Love him though. Talented kid."

He tells me about their scene, something about a panic attack, and I remember way back in Malibu when he comforted me and told me he was prepping for them in this movie. He talks of him fondly...and it's kinda cute how good he is with kids, from the sounds of it. There's about a half an hour of jokes and a conversation about his pets in California, the places he wants to take me when we're there next, and how he still wants me to check out wing chun with him.

And then there's a patter of rain and some thunder, and a storm starts rather quickly, breaking us from our conversation and focus.

"Shit," he curses, "I left my phone and my jacket at the stage, too."

"Do you have an umbrella in here?" I ask, glancing around, and he shakes his head.

"No, I didn't think it would rain. They said passing showers..."

I laugh at his frustration and let go of his hand finally, standing and wandering to the side of the tent, peeking out from under the top. 

"Well...it's definitely wet," I laugh. "Wanna run for it?"

"You don't care about getting wet?" he asks, standing and folding his napkin on the table.

"I can always change," I grin, "it's just a little water! Come on, on three...one, two-"

He takes my hand and tugs me out before I get to three, arm over his face as he runs with me across the lot and into the warehouse through the side door.

"Robert!" I laugh loudly, trying to keep up, but it's no use against the rain.

There's another crash of thunder before we get inside, and when he finally gets the door open, we stumble in, already soaking wet. He detaches his hand, grinning at me from under his wet hair plastered over his face, and hell, he is sexy when he's wet.

"Got it," he announces, coming back with a hoodie in hand. "I uh...thought maybe we could go back to my place, but maybe we should wait out this rain," he suggests.

I feel my cheeks warm up, even chilly in the building now that I'm wet, knowing damn well what he anticipated if he wanted to go back home...and I mean, I guess it works, because I have not yet forgotten what I'm wearing under this silly dress, either.

I smirk, nodding in agreement, and kick the dark ground with my shoe before strolling over to the set, amused by the fact that we're in Tony's workshop again.

"I thought they blew up his house," I ask, remembering last time I was here.

"Sorta," he comments, following up with me and placing his hoodie over my shoulders when he notices me rubbing the chill from my arms. "Shooting here tomorrow, just an added scene for the early stuff in the movie. Should be short."

"Hmm..." I hum, moving around the set until I'm standing on a platform facing the old Iron Man suits on display in the background. "This...is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," I sigh, letting my inner Marvel fan out, and giggles, his high pitched laugh making me smile as well.

When I look back, he's shaking his head in amusement, toying with a record player to the side. "All we have is Christmas music, but uh..."

He drops the needle, then joins me, running his hands up my arms. I look up warmly, moving my wet bangs from my face, and bite my lip.

"I can't tell if you're Robert or Tony right now," I tease lightly.

"Well, Tony," he says softly, palms sliding back down to my waist as he steps closer to me, "is only gonna dance if he knows he's gonna get laid," he jokes.

"Not after Pepper," I smirk.

"True...but Robert," he continues, speaking of himself in third person, "wants to dance with the beautiful girl he's on a date with just because he's in love with her."

He smiles, eyes narrowing as he watches me sigh in content and lay my head on his chest, holding his hoodie over my shoulders still. And then he sways us slowly after locking his hands around my waist.

"Sorry about the rain," he whispers, resting his chin over my head as we listen to the holiday track on the vinyl disc.

"Sorry?" I ask, chuckling. "Why?"

"Well, now you're wet and cold and-"

"I'm perfect," I sigh, closing my eyes. "Sorry I was always such a bitch to you."

"You?" he teases. "Never!" Then, soft again, "honestly? Defensive or not...I'm glad I found someone who understands me. Doesn't treat me like I should be handed things."

I take a breath, enjoying the quiet closeness and the firmness of his chest under my cheek. The smell of him mixed with the water from the rain, the warmth his arms bring around mine....

"You intimidated me," I admit. "As a fan, anyway. But you didn't have to help me that night at my aunt and uncle's dinner. Or at the benefit. And you did, and I think...that's when I realized I could trust you, famous or not. You're just a normal person like me."

"Normal?" he laughs. "Not at all. I'm pretty fucked up sometimes."

"In a good way," I chuckle. "And the whole spotlight thing...yeah, it freaks me out a little. But I'll get used to it."

"You're gonna kick ass, you know," he tells me, his throat rumbling from his low voice and it soothes me.

"I really hope so..." I sigh.

"How about..." he muses. "How about I see if they can move my schedule around. I could come with you. Stay backstage, just for support."

"You don't have to do that!" I insist, finally lifting my head to look at him again.

"I want to."

"My mom's coming," I say. "And my aunt and uncle."

"If you don't want me to, that's fine," he responds kindly. "But as your supportive boyfriend...I'll make sure I'm there if you need me."

"You really want to fly all the way there for that?" I ask, smirking.

He laughs, teeth showing again. "Babe, I'd fly all the way to England and back in a day if you said you wanted to see London." Then, he pauses, making a thinking face. "You know what, we should do that."

I want to comment on his ridiculous idea, knowing he'll make it happen regardless. That's just how he is. But I'm more focused on what he said. That name, again, the first time since the accident.

"What?" he asks, confused when I bite my lip again, smiling like an idiot up at him.

"You called me babe," I tease, and his eyes soften instantly, amused by how happy it makes me.

"What do ya say, babe?" he asks, adding it again and leaning closer to me until he grazes my lips. "Want me there?"

"I'll always want you," I joke, and then stand on my toes to reach him, pressing a happy, simple kiss against his lips.

He smiles against me, then pulls back. "How about I show you my house here?" he suggests. "Since you've seen the one in New York."

"I'd love that," I whisper back.

He sadly parts from me, stealing his keys from the hoodie's pocket, then goes to turn the record off. I follow carefully, not wanting to disrupt anything on set, and he takes my hand, thankful that the rain's stopped.

"Just let me, uh..." Robert mumbles, glancing back at the tent before the lights shut off; he must have found the switch for the time being. "I'll clean up tomorrow," he decides, realizing how tired the two of us actually are. 

And then we're in one of his cars, a classic one with a roof, and he's shifting into gear and driving me off toward his Atlanta home, hand in mine the entire way. It's quiet, but it's nice, and I rest my eyes, holding onto his hoodie over my damp clothing.

"So..." he says once we arrive, pulling up the driveway and waking me from my short nap. "This...is home."

It's big, just like the home in New York, but looks cozy enough. There's a small garage that he parks in, full of a couple more of his cars, two of which are torn apart; he must be working on them, I think I read somewhere that he does that.

"Did I tell you," he asks, leading me into the main space and turning on the overhead lights, "that you look absolutely stunning tonight?"

"You might've mentioned it, Mr Downey," I giggle, biting my lip again when he detaches from me and goes to unbutton his dress shirt as he walks me down a dark hall to what I'm assuming is his bedroom. "But thank you, again. For everything."

He smiles back at me, then enters one of the rooms, similar to that of New York. There's a huge bed, more big closets...I swear, he owns more clothes than myself. Then I start to feel my heart race and realize, despite our high on happiness and exhaustion, that I'm still wearing that ridiculous set of underwear under my dress. I swallow nervously, thankful when he turns to the bathroom, talking from behind the door.

"I think I'm gonna take a shower," he shouts back. "Since I'm already soaked..."

I realize my window of opportunity and quickly pull my short dress over my head, tossing it on the floor next to me. I awkwardly place my hands on my hips, trying to find a pose that might make my body look a little better, as the cool air conditioning meets me exposed skin. I suddenly feel vulnerable...more so than I ever have with him before...until his voice gets louder and he retreats from the bathroom with his shirt in his hands and a bare chest.

"If that's all right with..." he continues, but quickly trails off when his eyes rest on me, the only other words coming out on a large breath being "oh...kay...wow."

I bite my lip and look down at myself, feeling pretty stupid and shifting uncomfortably, until I look back up and realize how dark his eyes are as he struggles for breath and looks me over, top to bottom and back up again. His jaw is slack, moving slightly each time he tries to form words and they don't come, and he's completely still, speechless. I blush, hard, watching as his brow presses together and he swallows, noticeably shifting and re positioning himself in his jeans. Finally, he blinks and points at the lace barely covering me.

"That's uh...that's..." he manages, swallowing nervously again, "that's red and, um, gold, and..."

"Is it too ironic?" I ask quietly, frowning, though his stammering is making me much more confident.

"...lace," he finishes and bites his lip, sucking in a breath as he tries to figure out how to phrase whatever he's going to say. It starts with a long, drawn out f sound, followed by, "fuck no. That's...that's extremely, uh...hot, and...did you buy that today?!"

"Sort of..." I answer shyly. "As a thank you, I guess..."

He finally remembers his has feet and drops his shirt, taking a few small steps toward me, his hands out as though he wants to touch me, but doesn't want to quite damage the merchandise just yet.

"God, you're so fucking sexy..." he groans, his eyes nearly black as they dance across my figure. "Yeah, fuck the shower," he growls, and then reaches out for me, but I step back with my hand up, ready to draw this out.

"Nope," I tell him quietly, adrenaline running through my veins, mixing with the alcohol from earlier. "No touching...yet."

He exhales loudly, trying to control himself as he closes his eyes for a second. He flashes his dark eyes back up at me and nods, agreeing. "Okay. Okay, yeah...I can...do that..."

I bite my lip, trying to figure out my next move, before stepping up and running my hands up his chest, firm yet teasing. He watches, looking down at me as he breathes heavily through his open mouth, shifting again to hide his problem. I smirk, lifting my knee to 'accidentally' bump into it, making him suck in a sharp breath.

"Shit, Rach-" he starts lowly, but I kiss him once to shut him up, now feeling the fun of being in control rush through me.

"Against the wall, Downey," I order, pushing him back until he hits it and groans. "No touching," I remind him, and then I grab at his belt and undo it, slowly removing it from the belt loops as he stares longingly at my actions.

Next, I work his button and zipper, dropping to my knees as I pull his jeans and boxers down together, letting his already hard length free. He sucks in a breath as I look up at him, obviously struggling as he knows what comes next.

"Rachel, you don't have to-"

"Okay," I decide, "no talking either. Got it?"

Once again, his Adam's apple bobs and he nods, listening. Then he leans his head back and shuts his eyes, his mouth parted, when my hand strokes him gently. I take him in my palm, being able to finally see him in full, as detailed as I have yet to see, and lightly run my thumb over his tip, making his body tense and a moan escape his lips. He hasn't been very vocal yet, so this is a good start...and it's probably my new favorite sound.

Smirking, I start to move slowly and tortuously, tugging up and down his length. He's already harder than I've seen him in the past few times, and I know I've uncovered one of his kinks. Proud of myself, I finally lean in and taste him for the first time, my tongue pressing against the small amount of liquid that leaks out.

He gasps when he feels my mouth on him, struggling to keep his hands at his sides. I watch as he clenches and unclenches his fists, fighting the urge to reach out and push my head down over him. I continue flicking my tongue back and forth, teasing, until I hear a low whine come from his throat. Honestly, I do feel a little bad about it, so I give him what he wants, slowly engulfing him in my mouth as I hold him by the base. He moans and his hips buck, but I hold him steady, reminding him to stay against the wall silently. He does so, shifting back, and waits until I suck slowly back to the top, then back down until he's fully in my mouth.

I can tell he won't last long with this, so I start to pick up the pace, adding tongue and letting it swirl around him as I bob my head and move my hand together, driving him mad. He starts to tremble, panting slightly, and I can tell he's getting close, so I finally pull off, earning a frustrated sigh from him as I push myself back up onto my feet.

"You can talk again," I whisper, grinning at how much of a mess I've made him.

"Christ, Rachel, what the hell's gotten into you?" he groans, eyes flashing open as they burn into mine.

I smirk and take his hands in mine, helping him step out of his clothes and pull him toward the bed. When we reach it, I have him spin around, then order him down.

"On your back," I tell him, watching him lean back, following my orders.

When he lays his head down, I grab for a condom in the drawer of the bedside table, hoping he keeps them there like he does in the trailer. Thankfully I'm right and toss it to him, motioning to put it on. He eagerly does so as I watch him pull the latex down over himself and then look back up, waiting patiently.

Not sure where to go from here, I slowly tug the bottom half of the lace set down, reveling the lower half of my body before I climb onto the bed over him, straddling his hips. His eyes watch as I grab him, teasing him by pressing him against my entrance lightly but not letting him in. He sucks another breath in and holds it, anticipating what's next, until I finally hold him upright and sink down onto him, filling me completely with his length. I gasp, letting out a small moan, then start to shallowly move when I adjust to him. He groans again, almost a whimper, as he watches me slowly lift off of him and press back down, over and over at an agonizing pace.

"Babe..." he begs finally, testing his limits by placing his hands on my hips to help out. "Can I..."

I sink down again and lean down toward him, lips hovering over his own in a ghost like touch as I speak in a whisper.

"Show me how much you want me, Bobby," I grant. "Fuck me until you come."

As if he's been freed from a cage, his hand finds the back of my head as he growls and forcefully ravishes my mouth in a heated kiss, biting my lip as he hold my hip in place with his other hand. Immediately, he's thrusting into me, fed up with the teasing slowness. I whimper at the roughness, but it's okay, it isn't bad and I trust him, and it's almost a turn on.

When he releases his mouth, he holds my ear against his mouth, nibbling at it in between words as he continues.

"You're such a fucking tease," he growls darkly. "Sucking me on your knees. Fuck..."

He's panting now, making my skin hot with his breath as my mind goes numb at his words and motions. I'm barely supporting myself at this point, my hand grasping the sheets at his sides.

"You're not gonna be able to move when I'm done, got it?" he whispers, sending chills down my body. "Payback..."

I let out a moan, which turns into more of a scream as he thrusts particularly hard into me, hitting a spot I never knew existed. Holy hell does he know what he's doing...

"Shit..." he breathes, his movements becoming more and more erratic as I feel my lower body start to ache, tightening up more powerfully than usual.

"Robert," I manage, a yell that I'm sure even his neighbors can hear. "Oh God...Bobby, fuck!"

My nails dig into the mattress, and then he's pulling my head back by my hair...not too rough, of course, I just go with it.

"Look at me when you come," he demands, and I force my eyes to lock with his as he gives a few more thrusts and I hit my peak.

The waves of pleasure continue as he keeps his movements swift and lets me ride it out, and then right before I can't take anymore, he closes his eyes tight and gives a final, hard thrust as his body tenses and lets loose.

Eventually, he removes himself. He struggles to catch his breath and lets me lie on top of him, panting in a sweaty mess. I'm pretty sure I'm completely immobile, unable to move my legs or feel my arms, my cheek against his chest. I feel him shift and suddenly the soft touch of his hands, completely different from before, is present on my forehead as he delicately brushes my messy hair from my eyes. He doesn't say anything, both of us lying there in our closeness as we try to regain a normal breathing pattern.

"Okay..." he finally mumbles, his voice low and exhausted. "Now a shower..."

Still dazed, I listen to the beating of his heart beneath me. I can't reply. I can't move. I'm in a cloud of pure bliss and heat and sweat.

"Babe?" he questions when I don't say anything back.

I can feel his head lift in worry as he moves his hands to my shoulders to shake me lightly.

"Rach, hey," he speaks up again. "Shit, I was too rough, wasn't I? Fuck... Babe, I'm not him, I swear, I...are you okay?" he asks desperately. "Please say something."

I finally clear my throat and somehow squeak out a response. "I'm good, I'm good," I breathe heavily, still not fully back to normal. "I've never felt this good before."

He sighs in relief, and then after a moment, he's laughing, his body shaking underneath me as his arms encircle me in a loose hug. "I don't know where the hell that came from, but you look hot in lingerie, babe."

I don't respond to the compliment, but instead answer with, "I can't move," in a heavily sedated voice, making him laugh harder.

Finally, he helps me off of him after rolling us over, and lifts me up so he can set me down on the edge of the bed in a sitting position, reluctantly sliding the bra off of me so I'm completely naked.

"How about a nice shower," he suggests. "No funny business. No offense, but-"

"I think we're both beat after that," I agree easily.

He smirks, pulling me in for a soft hug. "Shower, then bed. They're shooting some of Gwyneth's scenes in the morning, so we can sleep in as long as you'd like."

I nod against his chest, then accept his hands as he offers them to pull me upright and lead me to the bathroom.

I don't even remember much of how we got there, but once he turned the water on, he opened the giant glass door to the huge rain like shower, letting me in first. Yeah, just casually showering with Robert Downey Jr. No big deal, right? Not after...whatever just happened.

And nothing needs to be said. when he closes the door and joins me under the water, he wraps his arms around my waist from behind me, and I lean back against him, holding my own hands over his. He's quiet, and I feel his breath on my shoulder as he lays his chin there and we both close our eyes, enjoying the closeness. His heartbeat is present against my back and I sigh, leaning my head back and relaxing fully. This...this is bliss. This is what I never thought I deserved...I still don't.

And after a few more moments, he turns me slightly, glancing at my lips before stealing them in a kiss, not minding the water running over his face as he lets his tongue find mine.

Eventually, we get to actually washing up, but not without romance from him. He doesn't let me touch the soap, and massages it into my shoulders. Then he rubs the shampoo into my hair, sending tingles down my spine in pure relaxation. This man is a God, I swear...

I reciprocate for him, though he washes his hair as I let my hands explore his toned body, lathering him up with soap. His muscles are ridiculous...and they remind me I need to start working out more. When I'm done I give his ass a playful squeeze and he smirks, but he's too sleepy to bother reacting. We both are.

He finds me a towel and a spare toothbrush and then we're in bed...his bed. The bed no one else gets to share. Not the trailer, not on set...but his personal space. And now he's sharing it with me. He lays back, sighing as his head hits the pillows, and I let myself snuggle into his side, my head lying on his shoulder and my arm across his stomach. He peeks down, smiling, content, and then leans down for a small kiss.

"Love you," he murmurs tiredly, eyes closing when lays back again.

"Love you too," I answer with a yawn, then follow him into sleep shortly after, listening to the beat of his heart under my ear.


	27. Chapter 27

At some point just after sunrise, judging by the faint light coming through the windows, I stir in bed, waking up in exactly the same position I fell asleep in. I slept well, that's for sure; my body's stiff but I feel more rested than I have in a while. I guess being able to sleep for the past few days has really helped.

Robert's light snoring is audible, and when I lift my head, he's still fast asleep, mouth hanging open just the slightest...and it's somehow still hot as hell. Smiling, I decide to duck under his arm and make him some coffee before he wakes up...since I feel fine and I'm wide awake now. 

When I'm safely out of bed, he shifts slightly, but he's still asleep. I sigh, admiring him for a second; the sheets are ducking just shy of too low over his hips and he's got an arm tucked behind his head. His face is the most relaxed that I've ever seen...the lines are faded, and he looks so peaceful.

Smiling to myself, I grab his button down shirt and my underwear from the night before and dress...sort of. Then I'm off to the kitchen, trying to figure out where the hell he keeps anything.

I open a cabinet or two, then give up and go to the fridge; it's all healthy stuff, but I shouldn't be surprised. There's a lot they must have him following for the movies...

Sighing, I go back to the cabinets and open a few more, finally stumbling on a few glasses. But before I get to reach for them, two arms snake around my waist and a groggy voice is in my ear, planting a few kisses on my neck just before, which makes me grin.

"Good morning..." he purrs, and I drop my hands, holding onto his arms around me just like the night before. "I think my clothes look even better on you."

"Mmm...." I groan slightly, leaning my head back to enjoy his lips on my skin. "Sorry...didn't think you'd mind. I can change if you want."

"As much as I love you naked," he huffs in a laugh, now grazing my shoulder under the collar of his shirt on me with his mouth, "this is sexy as hell."

"I'll have to start doing it more often," I whisper, letting one hand trail up to the back of his head, sifting through his hair as I close my eyes.

"Especially on set," he requests, kisses moving slowly back up to my jaw. "Make everyone else jealous of my girl."

And then he gives me a sweet kiss, saying good morning appropriately.

The way he says that last part though makes it so much different than when Charlie wanted to show me off. He was more focused on possession...on making sure everyone else knew I only catered to him. But Robert...Robert's being cute as hell, wanting to give up his stuff for me. Not to show me off, but to be subtle with it. To quietly remind everyone that we're together.

But then I remember the last time anyone on set really saw me... Though he must have had questions on what happened, judging by Ty's teasing, I have no idea if he actually told anyone yet or not.

"They're all gonna hate me," I tell him quietly, as he finally shifts off of me and hands me the glasses, going into a different space for the coffee grounds.

I try not to stare as he bends over, but he's only in his boxers and his behind is nice as hell...

"Who?"

I watch as he readies the coffee pot, leaning back against the island in the center. "Set. Your coworkers."

He laughs at this, confused. "Why?"

"Cause...April...and I don't know how much they know about the drugs, but..." I mumble awkwardly.

"No one knows anything about that. Made everyone sign a confidentiality thing. No one can even look up your record there," he says casually, pressing the button to start brewing. Then, he turns back to me. "As for the lot...it's funny, actually. They kinda took your side. Guess there isn't anything too appealing about a guy arguing like that over sex..."

I smirk, amused. "What, they went against the great Downey?"

"I know, weird, right?" he shoots back, then sighs. "It's cool though. No one's upset or anything." He pauses. "I'm sorry about that, you know," he says, softer than before.

"It's okay," I reassure, stepping up to him and running my hands up his bare chest and around his neck.

The sleeves on his shirt are too long for me and bunch up at the wrists, but I don't care. I don't think I'll ever get used to admiring his toned body, strong but not overwhelming. Just months ago I dreamed of seeing him like this...touching him like this.

"I'm sorry for nearly dying in front of you," I try to joke, but his eyes don't waver from me as he looks down at me, steady and unemotional. "Sorry..." I mumble instead, "bad joke."

Sighing, he finally moves his hands from the counter top behind him and lets them find my hips, rubbing small circling into them with his thumbs. "Let's just forget about that."

I let out a breath, nodding, and stroke his cheeks with my thumbs, smiling kindly up at him. "On one condition..."

"What's that?"

"Maybe...put your number back in my phone?" I ask sheepishly, knowing it's something simple and stupid.

He finally breaks, laughing a little, and nods. "I can do that. You have your phone?"

"Um..." I think out loud, then frown. "I think I left it in your trailer, actually...along with most of everything I bought yesterday."

"And my card?" he asks, with a raised eyebrow in teasing.

I laugh nervously and nod, embarrassed. "Yeah...sorta that too...sorry..."

"It's okay. We'll head back and get your stuff...I'll get you set up in the hotel."

My heart sinks a little at this, wanting nothing more than to just stay in this honeymoon phase with him forever, but even I know that can't happen. But I'm terrified...terrified of what's going to happen now that we're defined and there's so much...space.

"What's wrong?" he asks next, breaking into my mind, and I sigh.

"Nothing," I lie, but he shakes his head, smirking.

"I know you well enough to know you're lying. Now spill."

"I just..." God, why do I start everything off like that? "Are we going too fast?"

Okay...not the choice of words I was thinking of, but I'll roll with it.

He studies me through narrowed eyes for a second, then blinks. "No. I don't think so. But if you want to slow things down, I can back up a little...I know I kinda hit you with sex and the big I love you and everything before we even had our first date, so...I get it."

My lips twitch and my hands drop back down to his pecks as I duck my head, thinking. Until I feel him grab at them, holding them in his own for comfort.

"Rach...you know I won't be offended if you want to take anything back..." he soothes, but it only makes me feel worse.

"Like..." I begin, but realize I already understand. "Stop, you jerk," I snap playfully, shoving at his chest and rolling my eyes as I turn away at the sound of the coffee maker beeping. "You should know by now I don't just toss those out."

"Ah ah ah!" he calls, and quickly scoops me up by my waist from behind. 

I squeak in surprise and grab at his arms as he lifts me from the ground and awkwardly walks back down the hall, despite my struggling. I can't help but laugh at this, giggling in fits as he brings me back to the bedroom, falling onto the bed with me in top of him. I gasp for breath on the soft impact, and then he rolls us over so he's leaning over, one arm supporting him next to my head.

"Bobby, stop!" I laugh, a hand traveling up to cup his cheek as he grins back.

"Is this too fast for you, Thomas?" he smirks, then captures my lips in a kiss that I groan in to.

"Maybe....just a little..." I mumble against him, smiling as he slows down and takes his time with the soft kisses before diving any deeper; it's agonizing and I'm immediately sorry I said yes.

His hand slowly drops to my waist, slipping up under his shirt to my hip, and I squirm under him, feeling the warmth of his palm against my bare skin. Fuck, he's going to kill me. I'm going to die in his bed.

But he doesn't take it any further. Instead, he lets his kiss linger, then pulls back, still grinning down at me, this time with a softer look in his eyes.

"I'm not going to be upset if you don't love me," he says kindly, and suddenly this moment is more intimate than playful.

"I do," I answer quickly, searching his eyes with mine, hand still on his cheek. "But then I look at you like this, and...is it okay to be in love and still not know everything about you? I mean, outside of what everyone else knows..."

"You figure things out on the ride," he answers, smiling warmly. "Doesn't mean I care for you any less." He pauses, then, "I know things are probably weird for you."

"Weird for me?" I ask, raising and eyebrow and letting my hand drop.

He chuckles, smirking again. "Don't start getting all defensive."

"I'm not, I-"

"See, I knew you would be," he teases. "Rachel, we're kind of in an interesting position here. I guarantee you know me more than I know you, but I want to learn that stuff I don't know about you. But not all at once like school," he tosses in. "But your energy, your spirit...that toughness in you...that's what I love, and the rest is just an added bonus."

"If you're trying to get me to sleep with you again, you know it's not this difficult, right?" I answer after a moment, deciding to joke my way out of the situation.

It works - he laughs for a second, but then he's serious again. "I'm not."

I take a deep breath, then nod against the pillow. "It's like I know two versions of you, you know? There's the one everyone else sees. And then there's this...soft-hearted, tiny little dork that you are with me."

"Tiny?!" he gasps dramatically, and I laugh.

"But I just don't want you to think all I want is sex or an in to this movie shit, or...whatever," I go on. "But I feel like that's all we are right now, cause I couldn't tell you what your favorite shirt is or where your family went last Christmas, or...anything personal."

"Well," he thinks, "you know more about my time in jail than mostly everyone else," he tries to joke, and I roll my eyes again. "Hey, what about all of those texts back and forth? Come on, we had some meaningful content there."

"Yeah, like what you like to eat and how many hours you spent in your alpaca yard while you were in LA," I state.

"See, that's something!" he grins. "Come on, it's little, but it's something."

"I guess..."

He studies me a moment longer. "All right, well, my favorite shirt is actually one I don't wear often to keep it from deteriorating. But if you go in my closet in LA, it's on the shelf in the back corner. An old set shirt from when I was younger. Uh, last Christmas...well, there's too many extended people that celebrate both, so we just had a big get together in LA at my parents."

He squeezes an eye shut, thinking for a second. "I usually sleep on my right side, I hate waking up early even though I have to do it daily, and I once streaked through Hollywood on a dare before anyone knew my name."

"You were in movies when you were a kid," I argue, but can't help laughing at how particular he is. "And you keep letting me take the left side of the bed..."

"Well, before the drugs and shit...and because I love you."

"Right..."

"Any other questions?"

I sigh. "No...I'm okay for now..." 

"But..." he probes, and I sigh.

"But what's that mean for us? You stay here or go back to California or London or wherever the hell in the world you're needed...and I go back to Pennsylvania. Then what? Then we're just texting about what time you have to get up in the morning and the lines you forgot last night. And then a few weeks go by and then I see you in the tabloids with some other brunette at dinner or a movie premiere or whatever it was, just like before."

I heave a big breath, knowing I just had a mini panic attack and probably just ruined our relationship. Talk about trust issues, right? I don't even know where those insecurities came from, but...here we are.

But he isn't mad, he's just laughing back at me, cute as ever. 

"The red head at the bar was to make you jealous. My publicist arranged a date for the premiere for my image and to protect you after Sherlock. And the so called date on Valentine's Day was just a buddy's friend who got stood up last minute and I took her out to meet them for a double date to be nice. Never saw her again."

"What?" I ask softly, brow coming together in guilt.

"Rachel, this is the most sincere you will ever have me. I'm a guy, I don't do this romance stuff right a lot, so I tried to make you jealous and just upset you, and..."

He sighs, apparently lost in his ramble, and it's adorable.

"Anyway, remember when you asked me what made me happy? I told you snow, and you thought I was crazy. But snow made you loosen up. It made you laugh and I got to see this side of you after all that sass and I don't think I've ever fallen in love with someone so quickly. Because despite the shit you had going on, you still see the world like it's the first time you've experienced it and I know that under all this worrying and panicking you're doing, there's part of you that's the same bit of hopeless romantic that I try to be."

I can't speak. I have no idea how to reply. Part of me wants to cry. Part of me wants to kiss him so hard he can't breathe. But I'm frozen and in shock and I've never, ever, been told anything like that before.

He must notice, because he decides to keep going to give me time to process.

"We'll figure out this distance stuff, I promise. It'll get easier. Especially when we get it out there and we don't have to hide. But if you want to slow things down..."

I suddenly turn my head, unable to comprehend anything as my heart aches and I feel my eyes water. Fuck. Stop crying, you dumb ass. He's being nice. But I'm not used to nice. I'm not used to love.

"Hey!" I hear him laugh and he turns me back to him with one finger on my chin. "Or...we can go faster," he jokes. "Let's take the jet to Vegas and elope."

And then I stupidly smile through my tears, shaking my head. I mean, sure, I'd marry him if he asked, I would've done that years ago, let alone now...but I know he's kidding.

"I love you," I whisper, pulling him in for another soft kiss.

"I gotta stop making you cry," he teases when he pulls back.

I choke out another giggle as he dries my eyes and smiles softly down at me. "I don't want to slow down. I just don't want to lose you when I have to go home..."

"We'll talk every day," he promises, then grabs for his phone on the bedside table and rolls onto his back next to me. "Let me fix this problem real quick..."

I glance at his lock screen as he holds it above his head; the little shit has a photo of us at the premiere.

"Robert..." I scold playfully, and he looks at me, confused.

"What?"

"Why is my face on your phone?"

"I...might've set this back in April and just never changed it..."

God, another little piece of information that's gonna kill me.

"I wanted to distance myself and hope you forgot about me after rehab, but...shit happens," he shrugs, then opens it to go to his messages.

"Everyone can see that," I comment hesitantly, but he shakes his head.

"Just me. Jimmy has the promo phone. That's the one we use for publicity shit."

"Right...of course you have two phones..." I sigh, and he smirks.

"Speaking of...you should be getting your first few paycheck for that song soon. Go buy another one for Devin to use," he suggests, and it isn't a bad idea.

"That's if Thursday goes well..." I protest, but before long, he's opening the camera again on his phone and I raise an eyebrow, looking up at him as he holds it out on selfie mode. "What are you doing?"

"Get in here," he requests. "New selfie. You know, updated crying photo to replace the first one we took..."

I groan and shove him playfully, but he just uses it to his advantage to pull my into his side. His big shirt drapes over my shoulder and the long sleeves cover my hands, but that's okay...I don't anticipate this one getting out anywhere, so who cares?

He snaps a nice one, then shifts back and turns his head toward me.

"Kiss me," he asks cutey, and I grin, leaning into him to do as told.

And that's how we get our first PDA photo. He sends them both to the message feed with me he still has on his messages next, then sets it down.

"There. You have that coming in, so let's get you back to set to grab your stuff and I'll get you to the hotel."

"Okay..." I agree reluctantly, not wanting this private time to end.

"I'll have em switch some stuff around and if everything's good, we can catch a flight to LA on Tuesday night, spend the day together Wednesday? I'll probably have to work nonstop until then, but... What do you think?"

"My family is actually sending their jet for me," I tell him, feeling bad. "I kinda told them I'd stay with them..."

"Want me to hang back?" he asks, and I can see the sadness in his eyes even if he won't admit it; he's definitely the proud boyfriend right now, and it should seriously only be the other way around.

I think it over rather quickly, then shake my head. "No...no, you can come. I mean, they have to find out sometime, right?"

"You mean-"

"Just my family," I correct before he jumps to conclusions. "We'll test it and see how it goes..."

"Okay, he agrees. "Yeah, that works."

"Isn't it going to be weird for you?" I ask, noting the professional relationship he seemed to have had with Erin and Jon when we first met. "I mean, since they worked with you and everything..."

He blinks, shrugging again. "You worry too much."

"It's my flaw," I joke. "You found it."

"Not a flaw," he argues, rolling back over and over me. "You don't have any."

"Mmmm..." I mumble in return. "Just wait. You'll slowly start to realize how wrong you are."

But he only grins, leaning down to kiss my jawline lightly. "Then how about I just slowly," he says, then adds another kiss, "show you," kiss, "I don't believe you."

My hands run up his strong arms and find his hair, turning my head to the side to enjoy his lips on me. "I thought we just agreed we don't need to slow down."

"Maybe just for an hour or so..." he murmurs as he peppers kisses up to my lips, then captures them with his own as I turn my head back.

"Robert," I try to warn, but it comes out in more of a gasp against his kiss. "You have to work tonight."

"We have time for one more..." he answers easily, and I can't help but laugh when his free hand, the one not supporting him, travels down my side and to my leg, hoisting it up and around his waist.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind a filler I guess. Sorry if it sucks.

At some point that morning, we finally made it out of bed and back to set after drinking the cold coffee that we brewed earlier in the morning. Then he drove me back to set, with some light conversation about the plans for LA. I wouldn't have much time with him, but he promised to try to squeeze out for dinner on Monday night.

The set didn't have much time with me when we retrieved my things, thank God. Though their eyes settled on me, everyone was quiet and just observed from afar...but I'm sure Robert got all the questions once I left.

Honestly...maybe the space is good. I spent most of my time practicing for the show, vocals only, of course, and trying to plan my transitions between songs. I would only have a guitar, so it doesn't have any huge stage presence, but I'm just a quick opener.

Monday I talked to my mom and gave her the details on the trip, and got to talk to Erin briefly enough to tell her I was bringing someone along. She had a meeting, so I didn't get to explain...but it's probably better that way. And then I got to see Robert, Monday night as promised.

"I would've cooked, but don't have much time..." he sighed when I opened the door at the hotel.

He looked exhausted, and I can't help but feel bad...he's working around the clock to make up for taking time off. They can't stop production, so he's making up for it where he can..and so are the crew. But, I guess Marvel is nothing without Downey, so he can do as he pleases...even if I don't agree with it.

We took the food into the bedroom, just like the last time he visited the hotel, and then put on a movie; Airplane!, another classic.

But, not even half way through, once the food was cleared, I wound up giving him a simple kiss, sweet and thanking him for making time for me, and one thing leads to another, and suddenly we're full on make out, until he pauses and peeks an eye open at the TV.

"I thought we're watching a movie," he says against my lips, and I smirk, grabbing his collar and pulling him over me.

"I've seen it," I mumble, and then tug his shirt up, and he smiles against me before parting to let me start undressing him.

And before I wake up in the morning, he's gone, but there's a nice message on my phone, at least.

TS: Have a good day, sweetheart...wish I could stay longer. See you Wednesday afternoon.

Sweetheart. Yeah, I could get used to these pet names...

That night I call Devin, not sure if she was planning on joining my mom...we haven't talked since she refused to give me Robert's number.

"I know, your mom told me..." she answers, sounding annoyed. "Nice of you to think of me."

"Dev..." I sigh, "come on. I asked you for Robert's number and you were being hard on me."

"Because he doesn't want to deal with you, Rachel."

I stay silent, not sure if I should go for the rudeness or the fact that she's completely wrong first...but she beats me to it.

"Sorry, that's not what I meant..."

"It's fine. I got it from him the other day."

"Oh, so you're talking..."

"What, you think I'd just stay for fun?" I laugh lightly, trying to bring her mood up.

"Your mom said you were headed to LA..."

"Well, I am..." I confirm. "On Wednesday. That show is still on."

"I couldn't get off of work this time..." she sighs, her mood finally better. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I chuckle, laying back on the bed. "I miss you, you know."

"I know...I'm sorry, Rach. I guess...I don't know. I just don't want you falling back into the same shit. Especially after Charlie...give yourself a break, some time to heal, you know?"

"Dev, I'm perfectly happy right now, I promise. I'm really good. Really good."

She laughs..good. "Guess that happens when you're friends with a millionaire.."

"Doesn't mean I don't miss my best friend," I say kindly, not quite ready to tell her I'm actually dating him...and I can almost hear her smiling on the other end. "How about we hang out when I get back?"

"When's that gonna be?" she teases, and I hum while I think.

"Well...Probably this weekend. I think I've bothered Robert enough for a little while...and I'm out of PTO."

"Already?!"

"You guys sent me to rehab," I remind her.

"Yeah, but shouldn't you have gotten FMLA for that?"

She's right...but part of me is wondering how much I'm really getting for my music. Robert said I have a check coming...so maybe I can take some time to focus on this. Maybe. I don't want to get ahead of myself.

I sent Robert a message back that night.

R: heading to bed..see you tomorrow?

He was busy, I suppose, because I didn't get an answer back until sometime in the middle of the night.

TS: Sorry hon, late shoot. Taking a small siesta, meet you at the airport? Sending a car at one.

R: you know there's a bed on the plane, right? you can nap

TS: Oh we won't be sleeping...

That's all I get from him so when I finally get a shower and get my ass out of bed, I pack up my stuff, thankful that I'm taking my uncle's jet so I don't have to have a legit suitcase, and then I wait patiently...trying not to let the nerves get in. If I don't think about it, I won't panic...yet. But this is by far the biggest performance I've ever done, so it's hard not to be scared...

I make it to the jet first, so I settle in as they start the engines and ready for takeoff, scrolling through my phone. It's still so weird being on private jets like this... but at least I've taken my uncle's before, so it doesn't seem too ridiculous.

Sighing, I decide to finally go for social media. I haven't looked since I posted that photo from the night I got to Atlanta, honestly.

Instagram has a couple comments...several from Robert's fans asking about the beaded bracelet he was wearing. Shit. Maybe they recognize it from his other photos. But it's all speculation, so I ignore it. There's new followers on Twitter...about...

"Holy shit..." I mumble out loud when I realize I gained a couple thousand just from Robert's tweets alone.

"What? I made it. Relax."

"Huh?" I ask, turning my head up and realizing he's made it on board and the door has shut; we're taxiing already. "Oh."

He smirks, dropping his bags on the seat next to him, then slides into the booth next to me, similar to that on his plane. He's already changed for comfort, in some kind of black track pants and an old t shirt, beanie on his head with that necklace over his chest and a pair of dorky, bright shoes, per usual.

"Oh?" he mocks, hands folded over the table as he leans into my personal space. "What, no 'hello, I missed you' for your sexy boyfriend?"

I'm forced to laugh out loud at that, raising and eyebrow and turning toward him. "Have you seen him?"

His jaw drops, but I give in and give his lips a peck, then go back to my phone until we takeoff and we're in the air.

"A bunch of your fans followed me," I tell him and he peeks over, watching as I scroll.

"They're dedicated."

"Dude, there's one called RT Fan Club!" I nearly yell, and he chuckles.

"Congratulations, you're famous."

"Hardly. Should I follow them back?"

"You can," he says nonchalantly. "I don't."

"That's a lie," I tease. "You followed me."

I swear he blushes, leaning back in the seat. "That's different."

"Mhmm..." I mumble, not believing him, then hit the follow back button because why not? "So why were you late? Get everything done?"

"Yeah. I had to make a stop," he tells me, and I can see him readusting as he reaches into his pocket from my side view.

He clears his throat so I put the phone down, turning back to him and smiling. "Sorry, I'm just amazed by-"

I stop dead in my tracks as he pushes a black velvet box across the table, as if it's no big deal. I can't speak, I only stare at it, completely shocked. A little afraid, too.

"Robert..." I breathe in a whisper.

He smirks, nodding at it. "Open it."

Swallowing the excessive heartrate I have, I look at him, then back to the box, suddenly shaking as I reach for it and lift the lid. Inside, there's a silver bracelet layed out, thin and simple, with a charm at the end - a music note.

"What..." I whisper, barely able to find words as my lips tug up in a smile.

He takes the box from my hands and pulls it out, then grabs for my wrist. I jump slightly, a very, very brief memory of Charlie coming back at the sudden movement, but he's quick to run his thumb over my skin.

"It's okay," he tells me kindly. "Relax.."

And then he lifts my arm, placing a delicate kiss on my wrist before wrapping the bracelet around it and God, I can't believe him. So patient and kind and...

"I just wanted to get you something to celebrate this big step of yours," he tells me as he fastens it. "I was gonna wait till later to give it to you, but...hell, this way, you can go out there with this on and if you freak out, just think of me."

I giggle lightly, tears welling in my eyes. "In your underwear?" I joke, and he smirks.

"Good girl, you listened."

I hold my grin, turning my wrist as I look at the sparkle of the silver against my skin. "Robert, this is so sweet, but this must've cost a fortune and-"

"Good news is I can afford many, many fortunes," he hums.

"But this is too much, this is-"

"You're dating a millionaire, babe, get used to gifts," he tells me, and it sounds exactly like what Devin said earlier.

I sigh, knowing there's no arguing when he gets cocky. "Thank you...it's beautiful, really," I tell him quietly, and he smiles, cupping my cheek with his palm.

"So where's Devin?" he asks, sitting back after changing topic.

"Home," I answer, "with Aero and the dog."

"Pet sitter?" he laughs, and I nod.

"Who takes care of yours all this time?"

Honestly? I'm really glad we can just sit around in each other's company. A few months ago I was afraid to say the wrong thing around him, and now I can lean back against the window comfortably, acting as though he really is just like Devin. We don't need to be touching, don't need to be serious... In fact, I rather enjoy the hundreds of photos he dives into of his cats and alpacas...and pigs, even! And suddenly we spend the entire flight discussing our animals, and then I'm spewing my history of jobs to him, and the places I wan to visit sometime...like we started talking about in New York. And before long, the flight's descending into Los Angeles, like the last few hours were mere minutes.

They have a car waiting for me, which isn't that surprising. What's more surprising is that the driver doesn't seemed phased by him...but I guess my aunt and uncle are up there in his rankings...a little bit.

When I have phone service again, my mom's alerted me she's on her flight...they probably took off sometime during ours, which gives the car just enough time to drop us off and then turn around to get my mom. Robert spends most of the car ride on his phone, tweeting, then answering emails and messages for work. Guess it follows him everywhere...

Yet the worst part is pulling into their community, past the gate. Because this is it. This is the first time I'm going to tell someone that isn't my mom. What are they going to think?

My fingers tap nervously on the seat, and he glances down, then smiles at me, pocketing his phone. It's silence, but it's everything. Soft and understanding, not pressuring or dramatic. 

And then my aunt and uncle are making it outside as the sun starts to sink from the sky; it's only about five in the afternoon now, after the traffic and flight, but the night is quickly nearing. I sigh and open the door, feeling my heart beat loudly in my ears, and slide out first.

"Rachel!" my aunt sings, pulling me into a big hug, followed by Jon.

"You changed your hair," Jon comments, and I nod. 

"I needed a change...maybe I'll go back soon," I tell them.

And then Erin's eyes drift behind me to Robert getting out of the car and I swallow my fear, trying not to toss myself into a panic attack over this. If I can do this...if things go well...maybe we can go public soon. Maybe.

"I thought you were bringing a friend," my aunt comments, glancing at Robert with a smile, at least.

He smiles back politely and shakes her hand in greeting, then Jon's.

"I, uh..." I stammer, not sure how to go about this. "Well, we are friends," I settle on.

"Oh," she answers, simple.

Soooo...is that a good oh or a bad oh?

"Good to see you again, Robert," my uncle adds, flashing him a smile as well.

God...this is so awkward. I can't deal with this... But I guess it doesn't matter now, he's here, so...

"We're sort of...well, we're kind of uh," I manage, though not so well, so Robert stands in.

His arm finds its way around my waist, and I sigh, feeling instantly relieved.

"We're dating," he tells them steadily, and I watch as they blink, taking that in.

Finally, I find my voice again. "I know it's a lot to take in, but uh...there's a really long story, and I'd be happy to explain everything, just please don't freak out cause I'm really happy with him, and-"

"It's still under wraps," he adds, glancing down at me quickly, then back to them. "No one knows yet."

Finally, my aunt acknowledges that we've been speaking and nods. "Nothing leaves this house, as always."

I heave out a breath of relief and lean into Robert's shoulder, a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. "Thank you..."

"Does your mother know?" Erin asks as Robert grabs our bags and carries them inside with us.

"Yeah, I told her the other day," I answer easily. "She's...adjusting."

"Well...if you're happy then there's nothing wrong with that," she smiles, and I nod, looking over at Robert and back. "Though I never would've thought..."

"I know," I sigh. "It's been...interesting."

"I have to get back on my call," Jon announces from the kitchen, and Erin nods.

"Are you two okay until Lynn arrives?" Erin asks, and I confirm.

"Yeah. Just tell me which room I'm in and I'll probably just hang out outside until then."

"Robert, are you staying with us?" Erin asks politely, looking at him now, and he hesitates.

"If you want to..." I assure him softly, and she turns his lips up in a smile again.

"Sure."

She directs me to the room the the queen bed, and then I head back down to meet Robert outside, where I left him before taking the bags upstairs. I sneak out the door onto the deck, and the sound of the waves crashing against the stairs leading down to the beach are the first thing that hits me. The second, the smell of sea water in the air, and the third, the silhouette of Downey, leaning against the glass railing looking out at the sun as it lays above the horizon.

"Hey handsome," I tease, breaking his trance, and he turns, leaning his arms back against the railing instead, smirking back at me.

He's got a cigarette in one hand, and takes a drag of it before tossing it onto the beach.

"Sorry, I know you hate it...just a habit."

"Better than some other habits," I tell him, deciding I can't expect him to quit just like that...or ever; I'd rather he smoked than anything worse.

"It's funny," he comments, "last time I was here you hated my guts."

I laugh and join him, gazing out over the water with my arms leaning on the edge. "I didn't hate you...you just annoyed me."

"Well I couldn't just tell you I liked you," he jokes back, "that'd be too easy."

"And technically that would've meant I'd be cheating," I answer, and he sighs, pushing himself off of the railing and toward one of the couches lining the deck. "Oh come on," I groan. "Really?"

"What?" he asks, sitting back and leaning back against the cushion.

His tone is off, and I know I've struck a chord. So, I wander back away from the ocean and toward him, shuffling my feet an trying to shoot him my best puppy dog eyes.

"You said we were forgetting that," I remind him, speaking of Sunday morning at his house. "The drugs, Charlie, all of it."

He sighs loudly, still upset, but understanding. "We are."

Then he pats his lap, so I give him a good smile and join him on the couch, my legs over his side and my arms around his neck. His hands rest on my waist at his side, brown eyes melting into mine when he looks up at me. And they're intense, sad, and regretful all at once. He doesn't show his age at all, I swear...because he looks like a scared little kid who won't let go of our embrace even if his life depended on it. It's intimate, yet I'm worried.

"I still see it sometimes, Rach," he whispers, the scent of the cigarette still loud on his breath.

"They arrested him, remember?" I ease, reminding him of the day in court. "I'm okay."

"Not that," he sighs, ducking his head into my neck and taking a deep breath.

I let my hands cup the back of his neck, holding him soothingly in place, closing my eyes for a moment. "Then what?"

"You," he murmurs into my skin. "Do you know how fucked up I'd be right now if you'd died that night?"

My heart nearly breaks at this, and I find myself holding him tighter, resting my chin on top of his head. I can't speak...I don't know what to say to make this okay.

"I know I said we're gonna forget it, but I finally kicked the nightmares, and now we're back here..." he goes on, and I chuckle lightly, trying to lift the mood.

"And you say you and Tony aren't the same...."

He shakes his head, still buried against me, and it's one of the most human things I've seen him do. "I'm the king of stupid shit, especially with narcotics," he tells me, "but not with ODing. And I didn't know if I'd even be able to save you, and that's the worst part. You should've seen yourself, Rach...barely able to answer me. That shit still haunts me."

I sigh, prying his head off of me, and look him in the eye. "I'm okay. I got help. And I'll prove that to you...but please, Bobby, we should enjoy this couple of days. No dwelling on that."

He nods, trying to smile. "You're right."

So I gasp, teasing him. "I'm sorry, did you just take my side?!"

He laughs for once, rolling his eyes. "You wish."

I relax a little, then run my hand over his beanie and tug it off, wanting to run my fingers through his hair and soothe him. It always works on me, so why not try?

"Rach, can I ask you something though?" he chimes in quietly, looking at me with plea.

"Yeah," I quickly answer, soft but slightly concerned. "What's up?"

He takes a deep breath, looking back past me and out over the ocean. "Last thing, I promise... That day at your apartment with the pills...Rachel, I really don't want you to take offense to this, I just have to know if..." He hesitates. "Were you trying to kill yourself?"

I swallow, uncomfortable, a flash of shame sifting through my body as my stomach tightens in panic. I remind myself to breathe, tugging his hair a little too tight while I focus on stabilizing myself.

"I..I don't think so." I sigh. "Not intentionally...but at that point I didn't really mind if it happened or not."

He nods, silent, so I choose to follow up.

"It's...not something I want anymore. Robert, I haven't taken them since..." I swear.

"I've just always wondered why," he answers simply. "I guess I sort of always knew...that you-"

"Robert..." I frown, looking at the lights inside the house. "Do you really want to do this now?"

He sighs. "I just don't get it. You have so much potential. You're so talented...beautiful... So you had a bad spell, but look, you got yourself out of it..."

"I was just...tired," I admit in shame. "Tired of things hurting, physically or mentally. I felt stuck."

"Rach, you know there's people you can talk to even now, if you're not happy, if you need-" he starts, but I interrupt him.

"I'm fine now, I promise," I answer quickly, hands falling back down to his neck. "I am happy...happier than I've ever been."

He mimics me, smiling again; thankfully, he believes me. "Okay. Good. Just...come to me if you need anything, okay?"

"Of course," I nod. "Now can we focus on something happy, please?"

He finally breaks the solemn attitude and smirks, relaxing his shoulders. "How about the fact that you're about to become an international superstar in two days?" he grins.

I shake my head, disagreeing. No way in hell!

"You are," he promises. "And I'm gonna be here every step of the way."

"Even when I get a big head and get super bitchy and popular?" I tease, knowing full well I could never do that.

"Even then," he agrees, "because then we'll be on the same level."

"Where do you fit all that hot air in there?!"

"In case you haven't noticed, I have a pretty big head," he grins, and I shake my head laughing.

"You're something else..." I mumble, and take a deep breath. "Weird as hell, but I love you anyway."

"I take that as a compliment, miss!"

I chuckle, leaning into his shoulder for comfort. "You're really okay with standing sidelines on Thursday?"

"Of course. I know you're still iffy about letting everyone know, so-"

"We let some people know today..." I remind him.

"And was it that bad?"

"I'm surprised they're okay with it, honestly," I admit.

"Well, there ya go. You're afraid everyone else is gonna hate us together, too, but look what happened here. Bet ya you'd be surprised."

"Maybe...but let's just start with you guys all helping me get through the show...then we'll talk about that."

"I'll be right backstage waiting in your dressing room," he confirms, looking solely at my lips as I do the same, grinning when his hand slides up my leg and to my thigh, holding me up in his lap.

"Yeah?" I ask, teasing, and I watch as he nods, smiling back as he leans in a little.

"Yeah," he confirms. "Cause you know, secret boyfriend and all..."

And it's adorable how concerned he is about that. I know I'll let him tell everyone soon enough, but I just need to get through this first... Still, right now...now that Erin and Jon know and we're able to enjoy this peace and quiet, listening to the waves hit the deck from the beach below... Everything is perfect.

I let one hand drop from his neck and cup his cheek as he laughs a little bit, just happy to be spending time together.

"We're not in secret right now..." I tell him seductively, and he lets his lips ghost mine.

"You're right," he hums. "So what should we do about that?"

I laugh into his kiss as he presses his lips to mine, hand scratching in his beard and goatee as we part, then come back for more. I feel him use his tongue to ask for me to grant him access to my mouth and I swear he's trying to kill me.

And then we're interrupted before anything more can happen, by footsteps coming from inside and the sliding door opening.

"Mom," I breathe, startled, when I pull away, then shift uncomfortably out of Robert's lap to sit appropriately next to him. "Hey... I thought you weren't coming till later..."

"Flight got in early," she says with a raised eyebrow and Erin and Jon follow her out from the sun room. "I see you're enjoying the beach..."

I blush, and Robert scratches the back of his neck in his own embarrassment, probably not wanting this to be the impression he leaves on her.

"Sorry..." I mumble awkwardly. "We were just-"

"Making out?" she asks, with a light tone. "Yeah, I saw."

I swallow, glancing at Robert, who's got his head hanging low. For forty eight, he's sure taking this like a kid...but then again, so am I.

"I brought dinner for everyone," she continues. "Robert, would you mind helping me out in the kitchen?"

I blink, stunned, and force an apologetic smile at him, reassuring him that it's okay to go, so he gets up and follows her in, hands tucked in his pockets like he's in trouble. This oughta be good.


	29. Chapter 29

No sooner is Robert off helping my mother in the kitchen is my uncle answering the doorbell, leaving my aunt sipping at some dark wine at the outside table.

"So we talked to Gordon the other day and he mentioned needing to run through things with you so we invited him to dinner tonight since we're all in town," she tells me kindly, waving me over to sit with her instead of on the chair I'm still shamefully sitting in.

I awkwardly move over, taking the seat across from her, and sit back, trying to relax. I don't get to answer, because then there's footsteps coming back up the deck and voices from my uncle and a familiar British tone.

"We're going to move these out eventually and replace it with the piece from the penthouse, but we don't have the time right now..." my uncle's explaining, pointing to some kind of art in that corner of the deck. "Rachel," he muses, "say hello."

"Hey," I smile kindly, though it's still weird to constantly be talking to these popular people like it's no big deal.

"I thought I might call you tomorrow and have you come by for a sound check," Sting tells me warmly as my uncle takes a wine glass from the table and passes it to him, "but then I remembered you'd be staying here so I decided to just stop over."

"Sound check," I confirm. "Right, good. Just tell me when and where."

"I'll have my assistant send you the details...how's tomorrow afternoon?"

"Perfect," I agree, and then the drama starts.

"Hey babe, white or red?" I hear calling from the doorway, and before I can respond, Robert's coming back out holding two different bottles of expensive wine.

"Babe?" Sting asks with a big grin, cocking an eyebrow as he takes a seat at the table. "Thanks, Bob, but I've got mine."

"Shit," he curses, stepping out and setting both on the table. "Hey man, didn't know you were in town yet."

I duck my head as they say hello, then it gets worse when I realize Sting has no idea, and he asks what Robert's doing here.

"Just, uh, supporting Rachel here," he answers, taking a seat next to me.

"You're one dedicated friend," the Brit observes and Robert scratches the back of his head nervously, glancing at me to assess the situation.

I meet his eyes briefly, forcing a pressed lip smile that agrees, and he sits back with relief.

"Boyfriend," Downey corrects, and I wait for the sass back, but it doesn't come.

He laughs and shakes his head, taking a drink of his own. "About time, it's been hell watching you pine after her all this time."

"I was not-" he starts, defensive, and the cutest form of confusion is present on his face.

But then my mom cuts him off, carrying a pile of dishes outside with the caretaker right behind her with some dishes of food. Yeah, did I mention they have a caretaker? Surprised Robert doesn't...well, aside from whoever was doing his laundry, but I'm not going to get into that.

Whatever. Anyway, then it hits a ridiculous level of insane when she spots out new guest.

"Oh my Sting," she breathes, nearly dropping the dishes on the table, and Robert grabs them to steady them.

"Why didn't I get that kind of reaction?" he mumbles playfully, and I roll my eyes, pouring myself a glass of wine. 

"Because your ego has taught you to expect it too often," I tease, and he shoots a sassy glare back. "And you're dating me. You're off limits."

"I'm not gonna hit you with all of the 'biggest fan' stuff," my mom goes on, hand over her heart, "but I'd be lying if I told you I didn't once win tickets to your show by answering radio trivia."

"She's not lying," I confirm reluctantly, taking a sip of my drink, and then tune them out while they talk about his music and the food is served.

Thankfully, Robert pulls me out of my focus on the table, trying to avoid any more awkward questions for the night. He leans over, placing his hand on my thigh under the table, and whisper lower than the conversation they're having.

"Your family is full of fan girls, isn't it?" he teases, and I shove him lightly.

He bites his lip, grinning and it's so fucking adorable it nearly kills me.

"I never fan girled on you!" I remind him lightly. "So what did she want, anyway?"

"Uh...well, she told me if I ever do anything to hurt you, she'd make sure my face would never get cast in a movie again..." he whispers.

I blink, amused. "Well, that's...violent."

"Isn't that something your dad should do?" he laughs, and I lose my happiness instantly, grabbing for the wine glass again and adverting my gaze.

"He isn't around."

He watches me for a second, I can tell from the corner of my eye, and then he squeezes my leg, rubbing his thumb over my pant fabric. He doesn't answer, and I love him even more for knowing when I don't want to talk about things. Eventually I'll tell him. Not right now.

"So, Robert," we hear, my aunt catching our attention again now that my mom's settled down. "Jon and I were rather impressed by your new film."

"Ah, Sherley?" he guesses. "I always love making those."

"Most of it's really filmed in London, isn't it?" my mom asks, and he nods, taking a drink of water after a bite of his food.

"Most. And in the summer, too. All of those stunt scenes and running about in those heavy clothes...not the best."

"You do the stunts yourself?" Lynn chimes in again.

"Most of em. Got beat up pretty bad in the first one though, so took a light load this time."

"What was it, six stitches?" I ask, raising an eyebrow as he looks back at me, impressed.

"Correct. Knocked me out for a little while."

"Reminds me of the time I tripped on stage in the rain..." Sting pipes up, and then the conversation takes a turn to stories of his music and later, updates on my mom's job and what my aunt and uncle are up to.

It's pretty boring, really, until dinner's done and being cleared and my aunt comes full circle to me, asking my mom about me while I'm filling Robert in about tomorrow and the sound check.

"It was a rough few weeks," I hear, and suddenly, I snap my attention back, setting my glass down on the table.

My face feels drained, and I'm panicking. Yup. She promised. They all promised not to bring it up. Her, Devin, Robert...

"It's good you helped out early," my aunt answers, then sends me a smile that's supposed to be comforting, and I just know.

"Are you kidding me?" I ask, glaring at my mom.

She takes in a breath as realization flows over her and she blinks, trying to find her voice. "I thought...I figured you told them, since they knew about you and Robert and..."

"No, I didn't tell them because we agreed not to tell anyone," I say, standing up and tossing my napkin from my lap onto my seat.

Robert stands as well, hands on my shoulders, encouraging me to sit down, but I shrug him off.

"Rach, it's not going to change anything, we can just-" my mother tries, and now I'm fuming.

"We can just what? Pretend like I wasn't forced against my will to be sent away for three weeks after my ex boyfriend beat the shit out of me and I just wanted a little relief?" I growl, and yeah, it's dramatic as well, but there are so many emotions suddenly going through me that I can't help it. 

"Rachel Marie!" I hear her gasp at my outburst, but I toss my hand up in the air in defiance as I step away from the table and make for the room we're staying in.

Yeah, I'm an adult, right? And normally, I can handle things in an adult way. But this is...this is betrayal. This is personal, something I'm working to forget. Something Robert's helping me forget, and I don't want it coming back or getting out or... Fuck, Robert... He doesn't deserve me, he deserves so much better. Someone who can keep their cool, not act like the child he once thought I was.

Needing to get away and bury myself into the deepest place I can and stay secluded, alone, I fall against the wall on the bathroom floor, closing the door on the way in. Then my head's leaned into my hands and I fight to not cry, but that sting is in my eyes again.

Don't panic, Rachel. Stop. Breathe. Deep breaths...this isn't as bad as Charlie or the pills...yeah. 

And then a knock at the door nearly makes me jump.

"I'm gonna give you a second to open the door, Rach, cause I trust you, but the last time I found you in the bathroom things didn't turn out so good," Robert's voice informs me sternly, and I can't blame him; I'm in exactly the same position as I was that night he found me. "Please don't make me come in there."

I know he's right, so I sigh, pushing myself back up and unlock the door, opening it to find him leaning against the door frame on the other side with his arms crossed.

"So," he smirks. "Marie, huh? Wouldn't have guessed that."

Normally, I would laugh, but I'm too emotional and wind up rubbing the water from my eyes with my arm, nodding in silence. And bless him, because he realizes just how upset I am and immediately stands upright, pulling me into his arms in a hug. And he doesn't say anything, just like before.

Then, finally, after a few moments, "how about a walk?"

I nod, smiling slightly in thanks, and he releases me and grabs his box of cigarettes from his bag and holds it up in the air in question.

"You mind? Just one, I'll stay down wind."

My lip twitches, but I nod again. "It's fine..."

And then we head out the front of the house, me avoiding the back deck at all costs, and Robert lights his cigarette as we start walking down the street. It's quiet, and I've always loved walking here...the privacy of the gate gives it a safe aura, and the fact that half the houses are empty since most owners just vacation here leaves it even more surreal.

I stuff my hands in my pockets as we walk a few houses down, then finally sigh in defeat. "I can't even imagine what Sting thinks..."

"I talked with him," Robert answers easily, taking a drag of his cigarette. "Everything's fine."

"You shouldn't need to do that," I tell him. "It's not your job to worry about me."

"Maybe not as a coworker, but as your boyfriend, it is solely my job," he smirks, glancing at me, and I can't help but smile at how cute he is with this relationship stuff.

"I don't deserve you," I whisper, staring at my feet as we walk.

"Don't do that."

"It's true!" I argue. "That's like the third melt down on you since we met."

"You say that like I haven't lost my cool with you," he points out. "Plus, this one is fully justified. You'll get there...to the point where you can talk about it as a part of you...but don't worry. I went through it. I get it."

"She just promised not to say anything..." I sigh again, and he uses his empty hand to pull me into his side, rubbing up and down my arm with his hand for reassurance.

I gladly accept his warmth, softening up into his side. The smell of his smoke is a little overwhelming, but the feel of how easily I fit into his side is worth it. His toned body is my stabilizer right now...comfort. 

"You know she means well."

I don't answer, because then we have to move over for headlights behind us as a car drives slowly down the private street. I don't think anything of it until it slows down, and then someone calls out the window.

"Downey? In my neck of the woods?"

It's familiar voice, but I can't pin it...until, "Hey Tom, forgot you lived out this way."

Hanks. Right. Of course, how could I forget? I've never seen him around here, but I knew he lived here...but my aunt told me this is just his vacation home, so makes sense.

Robert detaches from me and goes to shake his hand from the window and I stand in silence, feeling really awkward. I know all of his buddies are famous, for the most part, but...still.

"What on Earth brings you here?" Tom asks, and Robert grins, gesturing toward me.

"Friend of mine has a concert tomorrow. Have a few days off so thought I'd come show my support," he answers.

And suddenly, I'm feeling bold...so I step up and wave a small hello, then grab Downey's free hand as he takes another puff of his cigarette.

"Girlfriend," I correct, and he looks at me with narrowed eyes, almost taken aback, until he processes, squeezing an affirmation and smirking. "Nice to meet you," I add. "I'm Erin and Jon's niece."

"Yeah, the one from the wedding, right?" he asks, and I nod.

"That's me."

"Say hello for me?" he requests. "Haven't seen them around much...then again, haven't been here much this year either."

"Will do," I promise, and then he smiles and waves goodbye before driving into his driveway and parking the car in the garage.

Downey and I start walking again, but with a sly grin from him shooting my way, so I roll my eyes and smirk back.

"What?" I ask innocently, and he holds our hands up, raising an eyebrow.

"Never would've taken you for the protective girlfriend," he jokes.

I can't help but laugh. "I don't think I'm ready to tell the world, but...a few people doesn't hurt."

I shake my head, looking out over the ocean as we come to the gate at the end; this one doesn't open, it's permanent.

"I forgot you're famous for a second..." I huff, amused with myself. "Almost had a panic attack when you knew the Tom Hanks."

He doesn't answer for a moment, so I look over at him. Then he drops my hand, but his eyes are unwavering on me.

"I love you," he says quietly, cigarette in his hand at his hip.

"I love you, too," I chuckle, confused. "Everything okay?"

He lets his shoulders drop and nods, then tosses the cigarette out into the sand as it burns out. "I don't think anyone outside of my family has said that to me before."

"What, that they get nervous over meeting Tom Hanks?" I tease, and he laughs slightly.

"That you forgot I'm a celebrity. You don't know how much that means, to have someone see me for me. Not the shit on TV or the tabloids."

"I see both," I admit. "It's hard not to. But sometimes I just see Robert, the one who keeps trying to knock down my bathroom door every time I need some privacy," I say with humor, and thank God he takes it lightly.

He smirks, leaning a hand against the fence, and lets his warm eyes rest on me. "How did I possibly get so lucky?"

I roll my eyes but grin. "You? What about me? I mean, you're the guy I've had a crush on since I was like fourteen..."

He leans over the railing, arms rested on it, and smirks as he enjoys the same view I was. "And you say you're not a stalker..."

I chuckle lightly, knowing he's sort of right...just an overly knowledgeable fan. And then it's quiet for a moment, before he speaks up again.

"You know, I get nervous too. Meeting people. Doing certain things," he admits sincerely, and I shake my head.

"You told me you don't get nervous."

"I got nervous around you," he says shyly, completely weird for his personality.

I don't believe him, honestly..not after how persistent he was with me.

"When?" I ask with doubt.

"Well...I fought myself over kissing you for the longest time," he tells me. "Not the first time, but...in April. I couldn't get that kiss from New York out of my head. Every time I talked to you or looked at you...why do you think I stopped being so chatty?"

"Figured you got sick of me," I tell him truthfully, and he shakes his head, grinning again.

"Nah, didn't think I could work myself up to doing it. And then in April... Let me tell you, you might think I don't have nerves, but I almost convinced myself I'd fuck it up. Think your panic attacks...kinda like that."

It never occurred to me that he might be nervous about that. The way we got together...it just seemed too much like something the Downey I knew from the movies would do.

"I didn't plan on that," he continues.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"Sleeping with you," he smirks suggestively, and I roll my eyes again. "I was gonna force myself to leave after that kiss, but then you took your shirt off, and...well, you took your shirt off."

I shove his shoulder lightly, laughing, as he reverts back to being a classic guy, thinking about sex. But he's right...I knew myself that I'd made that decision.. But once my laughter fades, I look up at him again, slightly more serious, but ironically nervous, for whatever reason.

"Is that how you would've done it?"

"Done what?" he asks, confused.

"Our...first kiss..." I mumble, realizing how stupid I must sound.

I see his familiar smirk before he shakes his head. "There would've probably been a fancy dinner of some sort...maybe a long walk after.. Who knows, maybe I'd even take you to London or Paris."

I think he's joking so I roll my eyes, but then he's still smirking down at me with those soft, caring eyes. My breath holds as I watch his next move...the butterflies are already taking over and I've missed that recently with all that's been going on in the last few days.

"I would've watched you smile and say something dorky that I missed because I was too busy focusing on how stunning you look," he tells me sincerely. "Just like I've done every time you've laughed since you danced with me at that charity benefit... And then...I would've forgotten what I was doing and stepped closer," he adds.

My cheeks feel a blush deepen as he does just that, stepping into my personal space. His hand lightly goes for my hip as his eyes dance across my face.

"I probably would've wanted to touch you...somehow...and you'd blush when my hand touched your side and carefully pulled you closer to me... You'd bite your lip when I'd leave my other hand on your cheek..."

His free hand slowly grazes my cheek like a feather, and I do exactly that...I bite my lower lip in anticipation, a habit I have.

"And I'd wait..." he teases humorously, his eyes watching my mouth. "I'd wait and watch to make sure you want it as much as I do. Wait to hear your heart skipping and your breath still. Wait to make sure I can really leave you speechless...because if I do this, I know I'm going to be completely lost to you, Rachel Thomas..."

He leans down a little, but still keeps a few inches between us, and it does drive me crazy.

"I'd go slow..." he whispers now, his breath hot on my face. "I'd watch your delicate lips tremble, your eyes flutter closed, waiting..."

Now there's only a tiny space between us, and I feel his lips lightly graze mine, feeling every movement as he speaks.

"And I'd finally give you the softest touch...just a taste...and when you run your hand up to my hair..."

He knows me well and calls it as I do it, and then closes the distance, softly pressing his lips to mine in the tamest of kisses. I can feel his thumb running along my cheek, his facial hair slightly tickling my top lip as he moves to part our lips, then dives back in to another kiss, soft and slow. His hand on my hip wraps further around me, hugging me to him from behind my back. I can't help but lean into him, on my toes, when my body meets his. His mouth works against mine, still kissing me gently, until I finally feel him leave a lingering touch before he pulls back.

I breathe in his smoke covered scent, my hand traveling down from his hair to his shoulder, and keep my eyes closed, holding onto the sparks from that kiss.

"And then," he whispers over me, "I'd wait...hoping I'd taken your breath away...hoping I stole your heart like you have mine."

I swallow, my eyes finally blinking open to softly meet his, then smile, content. "Take me to bed, Mr Downey," I request quietly.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So...just a quick poll...do you guys want drama or just keep it semi-realistic? Just for the future plots...let me know!

"Why don't you just focus on relaxing tonight," Robert had suggested when we made it back to the house.

I didn't want to talk with anyone else, I just wanted to go to our room...so I did, not bothering saying goodnight. I knew I'd hate myself for it later, but I needed some space.

"I think I'm just going to take a shower and go to bed," I sighed while stripping my shirt off and wandering into the bathroom in just my shorts and bra.

He followed with a smirk on his face, of course, but he didn't comment on it. His eyes spoke volumes though as they traveled up and down my figure.

"I have a better idea," he suggested, looking proud of himself.

I narrowed my eyes, feeling wary. Robert and surprises so far have been quite...different. But I watched as he wandered over to the bathtub, instead of the glass shower, and started the water, feeling it for temperature as he sat on the edge.

"A bath?" I questioned, frowning slightly because I sort of just felt like being alone for a little bit, but I know he's trying.

"Why not?"

"I kinda just thought I'd enjoy some silence for a few minutes...alone..." I sighed again, afraid of hurting him, and he just blinked.

"Oh. Well, I'll leave, if you want," he agreed, standing and wandering over to me. "But if you'd like some company, I thought I could work some of these knots out while you soak."

I opened my mouth to thank him for the offer, but then his strong hands found my shoulders, his thumbs kneading into my shoulder blades for a second or two. I groaned, realizing how tense I've actually been these past few days, and hell, does he have hands of gold.

I heard his deep voice after a small chuckle, sounding in my ear. "Sounds like you like this."

And then I wound up giving in, stripping down and stepping into the bath he ran me, and he pulled up a chair, sitting behind the end of the stand alone tub as he massaged my shoulders. And if heaven existed, that was it.

"Is there anything you're not good at?" I sighed, sinking into the water just far enough so that his hands still reached me.

"Hmm...let me think," he said with laughter, and I could picture him squinting out a fake thinking face. "Nope. I'm awesome at everything."

I mumbled in acknowledgment, then enjoyed the quietness for a few minutes, closing my eyes and finally loosening up.

"So when do I get to meet your family?" I asked suddenly, realizing he's now met everyone but my mom's extended family.

I'm definitely intimidated by them, that's for sure. After Robert's history with his dad...and he has so many siblings and cousins, and I'm just...me.

"Uh," he nearly choked, hands pausing for a second. "I hadn't really thought about that yet."

"Oh," I answered, and I'm not gonna lie, I was kinda depressed, but I get it; he's him, he has to be careful who he introduces.

"It's not that I don't want you to meet them," he quickly tried to cover. "They just don't really know how we met. I'm going to tell them, but I've been so busy and-"

"It's okay," I tried to comfort, sitting up and turning to look at him.

He removed his hands, sighing and feigning a smile, and it just made me feel worse.

"I'll call them this week," he promised. "Maybe we can set something up next time we're both in New York."

And eventually I wound up getting into bed while he took a quick shower, and I don't remember falling asleep before he came to join me, but I must have, because when I wake up, it's morning and the room is lit with a hazy warmth from the sun outside.

I yawn, stretching, and take a deep breath as I blink my eyes open. It smells like the sea, that calming freshness in the air. And something more calming...aftershave, mint, and him.

I'm never, ever, going to get sick of waking up next to him. He's a work of art, even asleep. And he has a thing for sleeping with his arm under his pillow, apparently, because he's flat on his back, arm tucked away, with his head turned to the side and his mouth slightly ajar as he takes slow breaths. He's so soft and his face is so relaxed, so perfect...no worn out laugh lines or stress from the day...just peace.

And I get a sudden urge to just...explore. Is that bad? I mean it kind of is. Kinda weird, right? But even though I've seen him naked, I just...haven't seen him naked. And after last night...I owe him.

Smirking, I come up with a good idea for a wake up call and shift in bed until I'm straddling him, capturing his lips in a kiss to say good morning. He stirs with the new weight on him, eyebrows raising and a surprised grunt as he releases the arm behind his head and hesitantly places both hands on my hips under the sheets. Even just waking up, he still kisses back, until I pull away, grinning ear to ear.

"Good morning," I whisper, kissing his nose and he scrunches up his face at the closeness.

"Good morning it is," he agrees, then blinks his eyes open, squinting as the light temporarily blinds him. "Hi, cutie. Did I oversleep?"

"Nope," I tell him, running my hands down his neck and appreciating the light stubble under his jaw, even after trimming his facial hair the night before. "You just stay in bed," I whisper, kissing his jaw lightly as I shift my body down a little, "and relax."

"Mmmm," he hums in amusement, his own hands traveling up my sides. "I can do that..."

Smirking against him, I let my kisses travel down his torso, my hands close behind as they roam his shoulders and pecks, noting the small freckles he has, faint, but there, on his shoulders, and he small bit of chest hair he has growing between his pecks...he must not be shirtless in this movie. His muscles twitch under my touch and I hear him gasp quietly when I switch to letting my tongue graze his skin, instead of just my lips.

"Oh..kay..." he mumbles, releasing his hands and trying to push himself up. "Babe, stop before I get too excited."

But I put pressure on his top and hold him down. "Relax..." I repeat, and he sighs, giving in and laying back down.

I don't know how he's gonna take this, but I decide to go bold and let my mouth search out one of his nipples, teasing him lightly. He groans, sucking in a breath, and I know it was a good decision. Proud of myself, I let my hand find his other one, twisting and toying with him. His hands bunch up in the sheets and I smirk, knowing he's given up trying to hold it together.

When I release him, I let my hands wander his arms, watching as they trail up his forearms from his hands, brushing through the arm hair that matches the darkness of the rest of him. And then up to his biceps, squeezing the strong muscles up there gently.

Then I feel him chuckle lightly, his chest shaking as he holds his head up and watches me. "Having fun?" he asks lightly, and I drop my hands down to his abs, stroking the definition of his toned body. 

"I never knew you had a scar here," I murmur, analyzing a spot on his hip and he laughs, lying his head back again.

"Fell of my bike on dad's set when I was a kid. No big deal. Can barely see it."

"It's a big deal to me," I say sincerely. "I should know these things..."

"Feel free to look around," he starts, but then inhales sharply as my mouth reattaches against his lower abs, leaving wet, warm kisses as I travel down. "But there's no...scars...down there..." he manages, then follows up with another groan.

God, I love that sound.

I know his strong thighs and calves well; those are always on display when he's been at the beach. Still, I briefly run my fingers through the hair on his legs, down and back up, tortuously and blindly massaging him for my own amusement. He twitches when I run past the side of his thigh and I make a mental note: apparently he's ticklish. That'll be good for later.

When I make it back up, I hook my fingers in the slit of his boxers, pulling him out with my free hand. He tenses, hands squeezing into the sheets again, and I gently blow on his already hard length.

"Fuck..." he swears on his breath, and I know I've won. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Not yet," I laugh, and while he's grunting in agony, I let my tongue wander up the underside of him, eliciting a deep moan from his throat.

"Rach, your family is in the other room..." he warns.

"Then be quiet," I order.

Before he can say any more, I take him full in my mouth without warning, and his torso jerks up, gasping at the touch. I want to smile, want to tease him, but this isn't just a game...this is a reward, a thank you, of sorts.

So I grab him at the base with one hand and begin tugging while I bob my head slowly. My other hand reaches blindly for one of his, grabbing it over the sheets until he holds it back. And then I focus on my movements at a steady pace, moving my tongue along him as I suck up and down.

"Jesus Christ..." he curses, and soon after, his free hand finds the back of my head, tangling in my hair as he helps move me over him. 

His breathing is quickly thrown off and his thighs are twitching underneath me and I know he's already close, but that's okay. So I keep going, moving my hand over his base faster than before.

"Shit..." he groans, his deep voice raspy from both sleep and lust. "You're so good at-ahh..." 

He cuts himself off when I take him in deep, sinking him into my throat and slowly pulling back out. My gag reflex usually isn't this good, but then again, I'm actually enjoying doing this for him, unlike the few times Charlie made me... Anyway, he's nearly shaking at this point, and I can almost hear him swallow before breathing out a warning.

"I'm close..." he warns, but I just squeeze his hand and hum in acknowledgment, encouraging him to come. "Babe, I'm close, I..."

He sounds panicked now, probably waiting for me to pull off, so I squeeze his hand again, holding it, silently telling him to let loose, and he understands. After a few more bobs, he's letting go, the war liquid tangy and sweet in my mouth, and I swallow on instinct when he's done.

Okay. Completely new, believe it or not. Haven't done that before. Yet I'm so...comfortable with it.

When he stops squeezing my hand back, I pull off of him, crawling back up the bed and lying on my side next to him as I watch him stare at the ceiling, chest moving heavily up and down as he regains his breath. I watch him, grinning, until he peeks an eye open and glances at me, flushed.

"Don't you need to, uh..." Then he realizes. "Holy mother of God, you swallowed, didn't you?"

"Should I not have?" I ask innocently, and he runs his hands over his face with a loud exhale. 

"Dear Lord," he prays, "I don't know what the hell I did to deserve such an incredible woman, but I promise I'll keep doing everything to same to make sure nothing changes."

I laugh, hand on his arm to tug his hands from his face. "Aren't you Jewish?"

"Still believe in God, honey," he laughs, looking back over at me.

I blush, realizing how stupid that sounded. "I don't really have a religion," I admit. "Devin usually just pushes Christmas on me."

He smiles lazily. "I'll fill you in sometime, if you want."

"I'd love that..." I answer, giddy, "although please don't be as boring as my mom...I haven't been able to sit through her lectures yet."

"No lectures," he agrees, "got it." Then, he takes a deep breath. "So uh, so what was that about?"

"Just saying thank you," I tell him kindly. "For last night."

"For...Rach, I was just doing my job," he protests, rolling over to face me.

I shake my head against the pillow. "Your job is acting. You chose to do all of that for me."

"I'm your boyfriend," he reminds me, and I love hearing that.

"And I still can't believe that," I laugh. "But how about...we got get some breakfast?"

"Sounds good," he agrees. "I can cook, if you want."

"Mmmm," I sigh, "are you as good as Tony at making an omelet?"

He laughs, nodding. "Yeah, actually. My specialty."

I reluctantly decide to get out of bed, then grab his t shirt from the day before and slip it on over my pajama shorts, then toss my hair up and wait for him to put on some clothes; normally, I wouldn't care, but today, with family here...it's probably not appropriate. He does so easily, quickly checking himself in the bathroom, and I roll my eyes, waiting.

"Come on, princess," I tease, "you look fine."

"It's just sometimes it curls the wrong way after a shower and-" he starts, and I interrupt him in a fit of laughter.

"Okay, yeah. And you don't use hair dye either."

He gasps dramatically as I turn and leave the room, following close behind.

"I do not! It's naturally dark. It's in my genes."

"So I didn't see the bottle in your shower in Atlanta?" I ask, turning and walking backwards with a wide grin.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he pouts, and then I almost fall down the stairs, and thank God he's paying attention, because he catches me just before I trip.

I land against his chest, gasping while I try to steady my racing heart. I hate that stupid feeling...the one where you have that moment of chills, when you expect to be free falling and you're not. I'm clumsy so it happens too often.

"Shit," I breathe, clinging to his arms. "Thanks."

"Maybe you shouldn't be so focused on making fun of me," he teases, and I bite my lip, embarrassed.

"I wasn't making fun of you," I argue, "I was just stating the truth."

"That's it," he decides playfully, and then I'm quickly whipped over his shoulder and as much as I love his ass, I squeal and squirm, feeling the blood rush to my head as he carries me down the stairs.

"Robert!" I yell, laughing and smacking his ass which makes him jump a little. "Put me down!"

"Nope," I hear, and it sounds like he's laughing, as well. "I hope you like the ocean cause we're going for a swim."

"No!" I yelp, smacking him again. "Come on!"

"Smack my ass one more time," he warns over my fit of laughter and then suddenly, he's slowing in his tracks and lifting me back upright. 

I stand, trying to steady myself as the blood rushes back through my body, and realize we're in the kitchen...and so is everyone else.

"Hey..." I mumble, feeling my cheeks heat up as my mother and aunt look at me with a raised eyebrow, each.

Thankfully, my mother just offers Robert some coffee, knowing I'm not a huge fan unless I'm in desperate need, and doesn't speak about what they just saw.

"Have you eaten?" my aunt asks, and I shake my head, but Robert's quick to speak over his coffee mug.

"Yeah, she has," he says with a serious face and I shove him, making him laugh into his coffee. "You're so violent!" he jokes.

"He's just being a smart ass," I mumble, then go for the plate of food in the center of the island that they must have made earlier. "He was supposed to make omelets but we slept in."

Yeah, slept in. Good enough excuse. No one will know.

"So what's on your agenda today?" my mom asks as Robert pokes at the healthy stuff on the dish, avoiding the traditional breakfast food and sticking to the whole wheat toast...of course, he must be under contract, I should've said something...

"Uh, not sure..." I admit, sitting on one of the stools at the island. "I have sound check this afternoon. But it's only..."

"Not even ten," my aunt answers with a smile. "And Jon had to run to the office, so he won't be free until later."

"I was going to try to stop at home," Robert pipes up, leaning over the island. "If you don't mind, Rach," he adds, and I nod.

"Yeah, sure."

"George took Jon into town and I promised Sarah I'd check in at some point today..." my aunt frowns, "and I doubt you want to Uber..."

"I can drive my car back if you can get us there," he offers.

I know she just doesn't trust everyone driving their fancy cars, especially on the crazy California streets, but she does offer the keys to the spare to my mom, someone who's driven their vehicle before.

"Lynn can drive you," she decides and my mom shrugs.

"Fine by me, I wasn't doing anything more exciting than going to Robert Downey Jr's house today, anyway."

"Really?" I sigh, looking at my mom with a small glare, and she nods.

"Wanna go now?"

"Whenever you're ready," I sigh, watching as Robert finishes off his cup of coffee. 

So we take the car, heading toward his home about fifteen minutes down the road in the hills. No beach front there, but a nice view, nonetheless.

I take the front seat, Robert the back, so my mom doesn't feel like a chauffeur...and he takes the time to check his phone for emails and messages, probably pertaining to set.

"I'm sorry, you know," my mom finally speaks when we leave the gated community, and I sigh, not wanting to talk about it.

"Can we just forget last night, please?" I request.

"I just care about you, Rachel, and-"

"Mom!"

"-I just want what's best for you, and they should know if-"

"Seriously, I'm going to get annoyed!"

"Hey babe," Robert speaks up, sliding forward in the seat to lean between the console in the center. "Remember that Chinese place we talked about with the duck?"

"Don't all Chinese places have duck?" my mom asks, eyes catching his in the rear view mirror, and I'm pretty sure he's just interrupting to make sure nothing escalates.

"Yeah," I answer, turning slightly in my seat, happy that we actually have history to reference like a normal couple.

"So make a left up here and then a right and it's down that road."

"We'll have to go sometime," I say, cooling off from the bickering with my mom. "You know, when..."

"We have all the time in the world," he smiles, making me melt. "Oh, up here make a left," he requests, pointing to the light ahead.

She nods, putting on the turn signal and getting into the correct lane.

"Did you tell her the news?" my mom asks next, changing the subject.

My heart stops; I hate that phrase, too. "What news?"

"Well..." he muses in a high pitched plotting tone. "Sting's album drops next month, right?"

"Right..." I answer, trying to figure out where this is going.

"Well, he and I are doing a promo episode on Fallon in New York, since we're all buds..."

"And you're a guest, too!" my mom spoils, and Robert laughs at her excitement.

"I'm what?!" I ask, jaw dropping open. "Oh, no no no, that's a terrible idea!" I protest, but Robert shakes his head, clasping his hands in his lap.

"Make a right up here, Mrs Thomas..." he instructs, then focuses back on me. "You said that about our dance in November, too. And here we are."

"That's...not the same," I sigh. "I've never been on TV or..."

"But I have, and you'll be with me, so problem solved," he answers. "We'll be doing the interview and music for the night, so just follow my lead."

I swallow nervously, not sure how to react. "And...and how did you...I mean, I know you're you, but..."

He shrugs, sitting back. "Just buddies with Jimmy...not my Jimmy, Fallon, you know, the one in-"

"Yeah," I answer quickly. "Yeah, I know..."

"So mine's down this road on the left," he adds, back to giving directions, and I fight to find my head as the panic sets in...

I'm going to be interviewed. On...almost live TV.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this a few days ago, didn't post it, then found out Robert and Susan went to the restaurant I wrote about in here last night? Kinda freaking me out a little bit, ha! Either way...I've been there a few times and love it! ALSO for those of you who may have been following my random idea to remake RDJ's Munich outfit for fun, he saw it today and I'm super emotional over that. :')

I thought Robert's other homes were huge, but that was before I saw the one in LA. We follow him inside, my mother in awe at the structure, and immediately I'm met with huge glass windows overlooking the ocean from the cliff side. 

"Holy shit," I breathe, admiring the view.

My mom wanders over, same expression on her face. "Doesn't it ever freak you out that this could like...slide off the hill?" she asks.

Robert laughs as he disappears upstairs, calling back at us. "Nope. Pretty sturdy."

"Holy hell," my mom whispers next, so he can't hear her from wherever he disappeared to. "I'm in Robert Downey Jr's house..."

"Mom!" I hiss, turning and wandering back toward the living area, admiring the decor.

She rolls her eyes and follows. "What, you think this is normal? How much do you think this place cost?!"

"I could never afford it, yeah," I mumble, "but you gotta get used to it, okay? If we're dating-"

"Mi casa es su casa," Robert finished, grinning as he comes back into the main room with a bag. "Grabbing some stuff to take back to Atlanta." Then, he tosses the bag by the front door and waves us through a different glass door to the side. "Wanna see my buddies?"

"Buddies?" my mom asked, puzzled, and I nod.

"Only if they don't bite!" I remind him, thinking of the talk we had at his home in New York.

"What the hell?" my mom questions as we head outside, and then we're walking off of the patio and into the yard, toward a big field surrounded by a wooden fence.

"His pets," I tell her as he jogs ahead.

"Outside?!"

I nod. "He's pretty much got a farm."

She watches as he hops the fence with energy I can't find right now. "Are those-"

"Alpacas?" I laugh. "Yup."

"I'll bring Fuzzy over," he grins and then he's nearly skipping over to the herd, leaving my mother and I standing along the fence in the yard.

"He's an odd one, isn't he...?" she states hesitantly, waiting for my reaction.

I just laugh, shrugging. "I knew that already."

"How old is he again?" she asks, bewildered.

"Forty eight," I sigh. "He's a child a heart, though."

She looks at me, leaning against the fence. "You know things are going to change, right?" she asks lightly.

"Like what?"

"Once the world knows you as his girlfriend..." she mumbles. "Are you sure you're up for that?"

I blink, turning my focus away from her and back to him as he pets a golden alpaca in the field, greeting her with care. "Yeah. I think I'll let him tell everyone soon...just have to break it to Devin."

"Good luck with that," my mom nearly snorts and I laugh, shaking my head. "Though she must be dense if she can't tell you're head over heels for that man."

I blush, jaw dropping in embarrassment. "I am not, I-"

"You're in love," she teases, jabbing my side with her elbow. "And trust me, the way he caters to you...he's wrapped around your finger already."

"It hasn't even been a week," I mumble, but she doesn't care.

"Been months since you two started talking. Long distance flirting, we all saw it."

"How did you-" I start, but she interrupts again.

"Rachel, what normal celebrity would fly you across the country to visit him and take you to a movie premiere for absolutely no reason?"

I can't respond, I'm too flustered. She's right. I should've realized it before and I didn't. Probably because I was too panicked about caring for him when I thought he didn't feel the same.

"It's a good thing," she continues, trying to calm me down. "You were never like this with Charlie..."

"What, happy?" I snap, even though I don't mean to...it's just his name, just the idea of him...

"You're even wearing his clothes," she grins, gesturing to me in the over sized t shirt I'm wearing. "If he hasn't told you yet, it's just a matter of time."

"He has..." I admit quietly, feeling my face redden again. "He...mom, he's perfect."

"Just make sure you're not in love with Tony," she sighs, and I roll my eyes.

"It was weird...at first," I confirm, "but now I just see this...the soft, cute little dork who the public doesn't see. A side of him he didn't even let me see until we got close..."

"If you're happy, I'm happy. I think he's good for you, I just worry you're jumping in too fast after everything..."

Everyone keeps telling me that and I hate it. Yeah, I get it, but I don't just want him for a rebound. And I really am telling the truth when I say I see him differently now. That happened sometime after New York when we were texting so often. God, yes, he's still gorgeous and I am never going to get over being able to see that face in person and not just on the internet now, but he goes so much further than what the fans know.

But then he's on his way back so I don't bother answering, waiting as he walks one of the golden alpacas over.

"This...is my girl, Fuzzy," he grins, hand on her neck as they approach the fence.

I hesitate and raise an eyebrow, not sure how to go about petting an alpaca. So he takes my hand and holds it up to her nose and I flinch just slightly when she leans over to sniff, but then she licks my hand and I squirm, an amused smile on my face.

"Wanna pet her?" he asks my mom, who shakes her head and steps back. 

"Nope, I'm good. Not really in the mood for slobber..." she mutters.

I ignore her and watch as he pets down her neck, admiring how affectionately he interacts with her. Yup, cute little dork for sure.

"Fuz," he comments, "gotta like this one, she's gonna be my favorite girl now," he tells her, talking about me, and it melts my heart.

I meet his gaze when he smiles softly at me, and then he clears his throat and pats her one more time. 

"Right...well, hey, I was thinking maybe we could try out paddle boarding?" he suggests, climbing back over the fence to my side.

I spot him, hands on his waist from behind as he hops back over, a blush forming at my cheeks at how comfortably close we've become.

"I have no idea how," I protest, but he shrugs.

"I'll teach you. You have a suit?"

"No..." I realize, noting I didn't buy one when I was in Atlanta.

"I'm sure Erin has something you can borrow," she tells me, noting we're pretty much the same size. "If not, she can grab one from Sarah's!"

"Yeah.." I agree, a little nervous to try out a water sport, but we have all morning until I have to go into the city, so why not? 

"Come on," he says, bringing us back inside. "I'll grab some boards and load em in the car. Wanna go get the keys? They're on the hook next to the garage door!" he calls after disappearing back onto the patio.

"Uh, which one's the garage door?" I ask, confused.

"To your right!" he calls back and my mom and I share a glance before I notice a key holder on the wall next to a white door.

"There's like a thousand keys on here," I tell him and then he's coming back with two boards, laughing as he picks up his bag by the front door.

"We'll take the Audi."

"Wait, we have a choice?" I ask, following him into the garage after he pulls a key from the hanger.

Of course, once we're inside, there's about five cards in a line, a couple newer models, a couple classics... I should've expected as much. But I do recognize the silver Audi, the one from Iron Man, I think? If not, it's a replica. And he's tossing the boards in the back seat, then motioning for us to get in.

"I'll ride you out to the front, " he tells my mom, "then you can follow back in Erin's car?"

She agrees, and just as quickly as we're in his house, we're on our way back to my aunt's beach front home. Just as we suspected, she still had some of Sarah's stuff hanging around in one of the spare bedroom's closets, so I borrow a two piece swimsuit that I definitely would've have the courage to wear normally, but it'll have to do for now. I toss a t shirt over it, from the same shelf of attire, and then pad barefoot through the house and to the back deck, where Robert had disappeared to with my mom after quickly changing into swim shorts he grabbed from home while I was in the closet.

And Lord, am I not prepared. He's even better looking than the last time I saw him in swim trunks, on this same beach. The boards are lined up with the paddles, respectively, against the glass, and he's leaning against it with sunglasses on, and that's it aside from the shorts. I toss my hair up as I step through the open door to the deck from the sun room and try my hardest not to stare.

"Ready?" he asks, grinning, and I inhale, trying to not be so direct about looking him over, but my mom calls me out from the seat she's taken at the far table.

"She's imprinting this in her mind," she teases, and I glare at her until she laughs. "Rachel, we all know your boyfriend's a God, it's fine."

"I like her," Robert says matter-of-factly with a gleam in his eyes as he takes a board in his hands and goes to the gate. "Wanna ditch the shirt and grab your board?" he asks.

I nervously feel my heart rate pick up as I lift my shirt, feeling very self conscious. I tug it over my head, then leave it on the table by my mom and do as he asks, looking at my feet the whole way down the stairs and to the sand. I don't know why I'm like this; we've had sex, showered together...we've seen each other naked. But for some reason I'm still embarrassed.

"You look great," he tells me kindly as we walk toward the water, his focus straight ahead.

I sigh, feeling stupid. "You have to say that..."

"That's what I told you last time, too, and I didn't have to say anything then."

I mumble in acceptance as he places the board down at the edge of the water, paddle in hand.

"So, just follow my lead, okay? It's not quite like surfing. Usually I just start standing, but I'll get ya out there sitting down first, just to get you used to it."

"Okay..." I say slowly, scared to try this out. "But I'm warning you, there is a strong chance this is not gonna work out."

"It'll be fun," he promises, and then he leads the board out into the small waves with his paddle. "Usually the water's quiet, so this is gonna be interesting."

Great...more reason for my to fail miserably. I'm definitely going for a swim, I can tell you that. But whatever, it's the beach, right? I mean, most of my beach vacations have been ruined by Charlie's mood swings, so this is the first time I might enjoy this. And...well, wet Robert is fine by me.

Once we hit waist level water, he climbs up into a sitting position on his board, laying the paddle across it above his lap. He motions for me to do the same, and thank God I can manage that much...though awkwardly and no where near as graceful as he did.

"See, not so bad," he grins from behind his shades, bobbing on the water as a small wave goes under us. "Okay, think you're okay to try standing?" he calls over the sound of the ocean, and despite how nervous I am, I nod.

"Yeah, just...I'm gonna fall," I grumble, and he shakes his head.

"Like I said, it's not like a surfboard," he insists. "There's more balance."

I sigh and nod again, then try doing as I was told, balancing with my arms while I push myself up. Even the most meditating in the world can't help me this time, though. This is on moving water. Water with small waves, not solid ground. And, naturally, my clumsy self loses balance almost instantly, my body tumbling into the water and landing with a loud splash.

I splash myself back up to the surface, wiping the salty water from my eyes, and scowl at Robert when I hear him laughing that dorky high pitched laugh.

"Oh my God," he heaves, catching his breath.

"That's totally not balanced," I complain.

"No moron comes all the way out here and then tries to climb on. I just needed you to loosen up, you're so worried about messing up!"

He keeps laughing, so I swim over and splash the water at him, making him duck his face away.

"Hey!"

"Are you kidding, all this for a laugh?! It's not funny!" I frown. "I'm soaked!"

"Honey, you always are when I'm around," he grins, and I roll my eyes at the sexual comment internally, but decide to tease him and get him at his own game.

So, I grab at his board as a flotation device, then casually run my other hand up his thigh, looking at him with my best puppy dog eyes under my wet hair. He smirks, watching as my hand wanders higher and then skips to his arm, gently tugging him down, silently asking him for a kiss in truce. He obliges, leaning down, but I take the opportunity to pull him harder out of the blue, and he looses his own balance as he detaches from his board and drops into the ocean with me.

He shakes his wet head when he resurfaces, hair sending water droplets everywhere before attaching to his face once he settles down.

"Oh, now you're gonna get it," he warns darkly, splashing his way through the water over to me, and I let out a playful yelp, trying to get away, but his arms catch my waist from behind before I get to far. "Where do ya think you're going?"

I can't help but laugh at how silly he's being, until he spins me around in his grip, arms locked still around me, and then pulls me in for a real kiss, soft and sweet against my lips. I smile against him, wrapping my arms around his neck and enjoying this new situation. 

"You thought I was gonna dunk you, didn't you?" he guesses when he lets me go, and I nod, guilty.

"Maybe..."

He chuckles lightly. "Well, you're not wrong."

And then before I can react he's sucking in a breath and pulling us both under water, releasing me so I can pull myself back up to the surface.

"Jerk!" I mumble, wiping the water from my eyes, and notice he's already up on his board again, holding out a hand to me.

"Come here," he laughs, and I reluctantly take it, climbing up to straddle his board with him.

I settle myself in front of him, back against his chest, his legs hanging off the edge to my sides. It's honestly rather intimate, and the sun on our shoulders spreads warmth over me, intensifying his touch. But instead of keeping up his playful banter, he's resting his head on my shoulder, arms on his paddle in my lap.

"I love you," he says with guilt, trying to get me to soften up, and I sigh.

"You're lucky I love you too," I answer, then turn my head to peck a kiss on his lips, noting the water still hanging on his facial hair.

"You had fun, admit it," he teases; he's not wrong. "I'll teach you for real, if you want."

"Next time," I answer softly, leaning back into him as he replaces his chin on my shoulder. "Can we just sit here for a while?"

"I think we have some time," he agrees.

There's a few minutes of silence while I enjoy the ocean air and my hair starts to dry already under the California skies, but then I realize tomorrow's the show, and then...

"What are we gonna do?" I finally speak up again, prying him from his hazy trance.

"Hmm?" he hums, apparently taking a short nap.

I stare down at is arms, wrapped around my own, and try to memorize their shape, the way the rest on me, their warmth...

"After the show," I manage. "Then what? We'll never see each other."

"I told you we'll figure it out," he answers quietly, and I sigh again.

"I know, but now it's so soon, and..."

"Well," he says after a breath and lifts his head. "I wrap in a few weeks, then I have to do promotions for the Avengers stuff...and then I'll have some time before I start up on Jon's project."

"Another movie?" I ask, and he nods; I can feel the board shaking. "Not a lead, just agreed to help him out with it. Promotional stuff should be good."

I smirk, knowing he's only talking up his name right now, but ignore it. "Right now that's it until next year."

"Really?" 

"Yup. Some stuff will probably pop up here and there, but that's it as of right now."

I think for a second, then exhale slowly. He must notice my tension, because he goes on.

"That episode of Fallon is right after wrapping," he tells me. "So...what if you come back down for the wrap party and we'll head to New York together?"

"I won't have PTO for that..." I sigh, knowing I'll have to go back to work, like a normal person, while he's living the celebrity life.

But he doesn't sound sad, he actually laughs. "So, I was going to take you to dinner later and tell you this, but since your mom already told you about the interview..."

"What?" I ask, whipping my head around to face him, which nearly knocks us off balance again.

"Well, I sorta didn't tell you the whole story," he smirks. "Gordon's interviewing for the album, but he's announcing a tour, too."

"Okay..." I answer slowly, wary of what he's going to tell me next.

"So," he mumbles, kissing my shoulder to try and get me to calm down. "He was gonna ask you if you wanted to open, at least for part of the US leg."

I can't speak, I can only stare at him. Holy hell, did he just actually... They're offering me to tour.

"You know, if you're okay with tomorrow's show and stuff..." he adds.

My jaw goes slack and my mind's blank; I only stutter. "I...he...what?"

"Of course, that'll take some dedication and definitely time off of work," he informs me, speaking his thought process. "You might have to quit."

"But," I swallow nervously, "what if it doesn't work out, or-"

"I can always help you get settled with something new if you decide you don't like it," he answers, "but I think you'll be great."

I'm back to speechless, so he laughs. Is he seriously telling me he's going to let me quit my job and support me? We've barely been dating a week, and...

"You don't have to decide now," Robert adds gently. "Think it over. I know it's a lot, but Rach, you could really do this full time if you want.

I nod silently, overwhelmed by his kindness, and play the idea around in my mind. God, I could actually be a singer. I could tour across the country, I could...

"I'd still be away from you," I tell him sadly, and he holds me closer against him.

"It'll work out," he promises. "Trust me."

Trust him. Yeah. I agreed to do that the first time we met in Malibu, and ever since then, things have been a lot better. He's right. And that's when I decide, maybe it's time to relieve him of this huge secret.

"Okay...I'll think about it," I agree.

"Good," he grins against my shoulder as he places another kiss there. "I already told the others, but we're gonna go to Nobu tonight, on me. Gordon can go over the details with you then, answer any questions you have."

"Shit, Robert, Nobu?!" I ask, ignoring the rest. "That's too expensive, I can't-"

"Honey, what did I just tell you? Plus, I wanna make a good impression with your family...as your boyfriend."

Boyfriend. Right. Shit...

"I mean, I'll still play it down while we're out, but since we all know...it's the least I can do for now."

And then it just comes out before I can think twice. "What if...what if, I mean..."

And he's quiet while I try to find words, which I love. He doesn't push, just waits for me to figure out what the hell I'm trying to say.

"The internet already speculates, so...I mean, we could tell them...maybe, in New York?" I suggest awkwardly, and he raises an eyebrow when I look back.

"Tell who?"

"Well...everyone?" I offer, coming out in more of a squeak, and he narrows his eyes, taking in my expression to make sure he reads me right.

"Like, everyone everyone?" he asks carefully, and I nod.

"Yeah..."

"Like go public? Let everyone know we're dating?"

I nod again. "Want me to change my mind?"

"No, no..." he laughs, squeezing his arms around me. "If you're ready for that, I have no problem announcing it..."

"I just...want to be able to do things together, Bobby," I sigh. "Like this, but not on a private beach. Or like dinner tonight. I just have to tell Devin first..."

"Okay," he agrees, kissing my cheek. "Of course. We'll uh...yeah, we'll visit my parents while we're in New York and tell them first, too. How's that?"

"Okay," I agree, repeating him, and close my eyes as I grab for his arms around me, feeling content. "Let's do it."


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had like no time to write recently, I'm so sorry. I promise it'll get more interesting soon. OH and for anyone keeping up with my random costuming endeavors...since a couple of you actually reached out to me on my IG/Twitter...Roberto saw the Munich outfit I remade! I'm still emotional over that...he hasn't been interacting with fans for like three weeks and for whatever reason liked that one comment and I'm still like whyyyy did he bother looking at that when other people leave him such sweet comments to but I'm so so ecstatic...Anyway rant over!

Everything up until the concert seems like a blur. 

My mother scolded me, of course, and warned me photos might get out of Robert and I in the ocean, but I couldn't care less anymore. I've been avoiding social media since it's been such a storm on my name, anyway. Even my own photos are getting speculation, and I don't want any part of that. I refrained from telling her about the tour; I don't know if she knows or not, but I feel like she would've blurted it with the bit of info on the interview if she did.

Regardless, I change into something decent and dry my hair while Robert takes a call from someone important, who knows, and try to stop my racing heart. An entire tour, opening. For a legend. I can't even imagine it. I mean, sure, he's not hip and current, so the venues might be smaller than like...Lady Gaga, or whatever, but still. For me, this is huge. Tomorrow's just a small place, maybe a couple hundred, but to have thousands of people listening to me is insane. I can't focus on anything but that, and that's probably why Robert didn't want to tell me until later, but here we are...

Sound check was...weird. The venues a small building, kind of bar ish type. Kind of like a late night cafe, I guess. There's a huge floor though, and tons of side seating, and a few rooms backstage that we'll have to get ready in. Robert decided to hang back for this one, knowing he'll draw a crowd, and that's okay. It's only a test, right? No one's actually going to hear me yet, so I'm not too nervous. I mean, I've done these things too many times to count before, so no big deal.

Except for some reason it i a little bit of a deal, because the last time I played a gig like this...wedding excluded

I have the earpieces in for sound balance and feedback, and I breeze through a cover track of something I played at the wedding, a Bret Michaels song, for acoustics. And that's about it. I'm shown by the manager to the rooms we can use tomorrow night, and then shown the back door. I'm given a badge, and our names are put on a list, just in case. Yeah, totally got some funny looks from security when I told them to add Lynn, Erin, and Jon...and oh, yeah, Robert Downey Jr.

"The RDJ?" the guy asks, cocking an eyebrow and I nod.

"Yeah, he uh...yeah."

"Are you sure?" he asks, not believing me and I sigh and nod.

"I'm pretty sure..."

"Okay..." he reluctantly agrees, sounding like he's not looking forward to telling me he didn't show up tomorrow, as if I have some delusion, but whatever.

And then my mom's driving Erin's car back toward Malibu from the city, toward the elegant restaurant that is a Japanese haven. Jon and Erin are already there when we arrive, and shortly after, Sting shows up, asking me about the sound check and if everything went okay. I let him know everything's good to go, and I'm hyped, and then there's commotion toward the front of the restaurant, as the one and only makes his grand entrance, issuing a murmur from the locals seated around us.

He takes the seat to my left at the circular table, folding his napkin and tossing it over his knee, then slides his hand under the tablecloth onto my thigh, making my breath catch and a blush form at my cheeks. I push it down; I can't tip off anyone here...not yet.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologizes. "I ran a couple errands, lost track of time."

"Errands?" I ask, and he smirks.

"You'll see."

I'm slightly terrified of what that means but play it off, and then before I know it, Sting's jumping into the big news, and I'm desperately trying to pretend I don't feel everyone's eyes burning into my back as I sit next to Robert. My mom, on the other hand, isn't even noticing...she's just hanging on every word he says, silently fan girling.

"My original opener backed out of part of the leg. So I know it's last minute, but I couldn't think of anyone more qualified, with the timing and so forth," he tells me, taking a sip of water. "Rehearsals start in a few weeks, and then it would only be about ten shows for the western states inJune. We'll kick off here in LA..."

"Holy shit, Rachel," my mom breathes, grabbing my hand on the table top.

I turn my head to her, eyes wide, then back to Sting. "I mean...are you sure you want me? Me?"

"If you want it, it's yours," he answers. "Otherwise I'll have to give it to my backup, and they're a local group that I'll be honest, I'm not too fond of..."

I nod silently, trying to process all of this information.

"And you're welcome to stay with us, if you need to," Jon adds, leaning back in his seat with his napkin in hand.

I blink, trying to process, a little peeved at Robert telling me I had time to think this over when apparently I don't, but... I need to decide for me, not for what I'm comfortable with.

"Okay," I breathe on a whim. "Okay, I'll do it."

My mom squeals and pulls me into a hug, alerting half the restaurant, I'm sure, and then Robert squeezes my thigh under the table and when I look back, he's giving me a cocky grin.

He leans in, still far enough to be considered friendly, and whispers, "I'm proud of you, you'll be great!" and it nearly kills me.

His eyes are softer than usual and his polite smile warms my heart. I don't deserve him.

And then my mom's begging for a photo, so I stand with Sting against the railing along the beach front, sunset in the background, and smile stupidly. Until she motions for Robert to get in there with us, and I look around nervously, seeing most of the restaurant's eyes on us. He keeps his distance, an arm around my back politely, and nothing more, but I wish we could take a photo for real. A couples photo. Just us. But for now I have to settle for just having him in private.

When we make it to the house after dinner, my mom's sharing a drink with my aunt and uncle on the back deck, but I can't handle my nerves, so I eagerly agree to join them, hoping Robert doesn't mind. He doesn't. He's a saint.

Eventually, he winds up sharing a cigar with my uncle, the two of them off against the railing facing the ocean as I down a second glass of wine, then top off a third and probably my last. It's enough to be tipsy, but definitely not drunk like that time in New York. God, was that embarrassing... No, I just want to sleep, and you know, sleep doesn't come easy much anymore without the pills...

"I'm heading in to take a shower," I hear suddenly, pulling me out of my text trance with Devin, who I just told about the tour.

I jump slightly, not aware Robert or Jon had come back toward the house, but the scent of cinnamon and smoke is enough to give him away. He leans down, hand on the back of my chair, and places a kiss on the top of my head, and I blush, smiling back at him.

"I'll be up in a little bit," I answer, and he smiles, then disappears into the house after saying goodnight to the rest.

And then all eyes are on me, amused by how much of a couple we already are.

"You know, he's nothing like I thought he'd be," my mom comments, and my aunt laughs, sitting back and observing.

"Hes creative and head strong," she decides on.

"He's a softie," I disagree, shaking my head.

"I hope not," my mom snort in laughter, and I redden further, sucking in a breath.

But alcohol makes me bold, as we all know already. "In the heart," I correct. "Now, in the bedroom..."

She sighs and I bite my lip, knowing she's about to admit it. "All right, all right, you picked a good one!"

"He's amazing," I say sincerely.

"Totally not what I'd expect after spending years in and out of jail..."

"Some people do change, mom," I tell her, finishing off my glass, and then standing. "Now if you excuse me, I'm going to go try to sleep and not panic myself out too much about tomorrow."

Now the scene when I make it to the bedroom is even funny despite not being fully drunk. It's not even that dramatic. But there he is, sitting in bed without a shirt and the bedside lamp on. He's got his glasses far down on his nose; the first time he's worn the actual, normal, rectangular reading glasses in front of me, and he's typing away on his phone.

"What?" he asks when he notices me staring, peering up from behind the frames, and I can't help but giggle.

"Sorry grandpa, didn't mean to wake you."

He holds a straight face, then sets his phone down, climbing out of bed and toward the closet, in nothing but boxers. I swallow my words immediately, ogling his body as he moves past me.

"You shouldn't look at your grandpa that way!" he calls as he disappears into the shelves, then comes back with a smirk, holding two pieces up; a dress and a black romper.

"...grandma?" I correct myself, trying to be sassy, and he rolls his eyes.

"I'm trying to be nice here!" he frowns and I sigh, nodding for him to go on. "I stopped at the house earlier, and I had some spare time so I went into Beverly Hills and-"

"Wait, you went shopping for me?!" I gasp, suddenly forgetting my teasing and he smirks.

"Tried to. So you have something nice to wear tomorrow."

I step up, inspecting them, and then realize this must have been what his 'errands' were this afternoon.

"Holy hell..." I sigh, then glance back up at his eyes, focused n me.

"You like either of em?"

"Like them?" I repeat, blinking dumbly up at him. "Yes, yes of course!"

He grins, then hangs them back up and I instantly take him in a kiss as a thank you.

"So, do I get more blow jobs for being a good boyfriend?" he teases, and I roll my eyes, disappearing into the bathroom to brush my teeth and change into a t shirt.

By the time I make it back, the wine's fully flowing through me and I finally feel relaxed. I crawl into bed next to him and sink down into the pillows with a big sigh, and he sets down his phone and turns out the light, then lies back and faces me, draping his arm over my waist. I smile up at him, looking at his soft facial features in the dim light, fueled only by the moon outside, and honestly, this kind of calm closeness is perfect.

"What, no trying to jump me this time around?" he teases, mentioning the wine, and I scrunch my nose up at him in return.

"Nope. I don't have to pretend not to like you anymore," I answer truthfully, and he laughs back.

"You're lucky you're tipsy or I would've had a repeat of Atlanta," he muses.

I grin in the darkness, until he lightens up and changes the subject.

"I like your family," he tells me with sincerity. "Jon's easy to chat with."

"Yeah, when you know about business," I mumble back.

"That I do."

"Then you fit right in..." I answer sleepily, and he chuckles when I yawn.

"I just sent my dad an email," he tells me softly, brushing the bangs from my face. "I'm gonna tell them about you. Us."

"You sure they won't hate me?" I ask, and thank God I've been drinking, or I would've panicked hard about this news.

"For what? You haven't even met them!" he teases quietly.

"Being so many years apart. Being the drug addict that their son definitely needs after escaping it himself."

"They know I still do AA and NA," he points out. "They'll be fine."

"You have to say that," I frown, stiffing another yawn, and he grins in the dark light before I close my eyes.

"Get some sleep, crazy. Tomorrow's gonna be a big day."

My stomach drops at this, but I agree with a mumble closing my eyes and listening to his breathing steady as he relaxes, himself.

But it's short lived. 

I don't know how much time passes, but once I fall asleep, I'm back at the venue. The one at home. The one I was supposed to play and skipped because Charlie was being, well, Charlie. And I'm back stage, similar to what we saw today, and I'm chatting with one of the guys who's taking my equipment from me, guitar included as he passes them onto the person in charge of returning it to my room. It's not much, but it's something simple for playing their venue.

And I know what comes next...Charlie, storming in, pushing past a few staff members cleaning up the hallway and packing away my stuff as they ready for the main show. He nearly makes me trip when he grabs my arm and pulls me aggressively away from the man I was holding a conversation with.

__

"Ow, what the hell?!" I gasp, and he tosses me into the room, slamming the door behind me.

"Are you cheating on me?" he growls, and I just blink.

"Um, are you crazy?" I snap back, and immediately, I know that's a mistake.

His eyes burn into mine like icicles, the piercing blue stare sending chills down my spine. And God, that disgusting smirk behind the bond hair. The stupid proud expression his face holds....proud because he thinks he's caught me at something. Proud because he knows we're alone now and he can treat me like he wants.

"Don't test me, Rachel," he warns, fingers on the bridge of his nose. "I thought we had a deal. I get you these shows, you stop tramping around with every guy you see."

"Every guy I- what in the hell are you talking about?!" I gasp. "I've literally only had sex with you. In the last two years, just you. Did you forget we're fucking dating?!"

"Speaking of," he interrupts, ignoring the rest and locking the door. "We have time, so let's make use of it."

"You want to...here?! Is this some kind of protective mark your territory type shit, because that guy wouldn't even know what we're doing," I argue, and he shrugs, walking toward me.

"Why not? We have the room for another twenty minutes."

I blink, staring at him as he reaches out for my shoulder. Then, I pull away just before he touches, and turn my back for a second to find my phone and distract myself. But he's quick, and he catches me, spinning me roughly back to face him.

"Are you saying no?" he asks coolly, and I narrow my eyes at him, tugging my arm away.

But his grip tightens and I growl in pain. "Get off of me, that hurts!" I complain, and he stares at me with his pissed off gaze.

"I just got you this damn show, and you can't even be bothered to thank me?"

"Thank you," I spit, trying harder to get him to detach, and he doesn't. "Let go of me!" I snarl again, and then he's pulling me roughly against him, hands grabbing my ass and squeezing claw marks into it through my jean fabric and-

Then my eyes shoot open and I'm gasping for breath, and two hands hold onto my biceps as they pull me to a sitting position. I flinch, tearing myself away from the touch on instinct, caught somewhere between the darkness and the dream.

"Don't touch me!" I snap, scooting back, and I take the sheets with me when I tumble onto the floor.

Then a light's turned on and Robert's scurrying onto the floor beside me in nothing but his boxers still, concern plastered on his face. His eyes have dark circles forming from being woken up, but he doesn't let me know he's upset about it at all.

"Shit, are you okay?" he asks, and I realize what the fuck is happening and manage to nod as I try to steady my breathing.

His hands gently cup my face, forcing me to look at him, and my eyes meet his, warm and brown and patient.

"Breathe," he instructs, his deep raspy voice calming me as it usually does. "It's just me. Robert. Not him."

I nod, and my hands drop the sheets and grip his forearms. I take a few deep breaths and then he's breathing slowly in an out to get me to follow his lead.

After a few, he speaks up again. "Who am I?"

I sigh, "Robert."

"Good. Where are you?"

"Malibu. I'm in Malibu..."

"Okay. Okay, did you hurt yourself? You landed pretty hard there."

"I'm good..." I breathe, and he gives me his hand to pull me up. "How did you know?"

"Good guess. You were pretty vocal in your sleep."

"I'm sorry..." I say sadly, tossing the sheets back over the mattress.

"Did something happen?" he asks delicately and I shake my head.

"No, I just...guess I was just thinking about the last show I had," I admit. "I get these...from time to time. When I'm nervous, or scared about something.."

He runs a hand through his hair, taking a breath, then nods. "You wanna take a walk? Get a drink?"

I shake my head, getting back into bed. "I'll be fine..."

He frowns but doesn't push so he mirrors me and sits upright instead of laying down, arms open. "Come here.."

And I gladly snuggle into his side, arms hugging his torso and my head rested on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It isn't much, but it's enough to make me calm myself again after practically panting in a cold sweat.

"Do you wanna talk at all?" Robert whispers after a moment. "Or do you think you can sleep?"

"You sleep," I answer. "I'll be fine."

"Promise to try and sleep," he sighs, "for me? I'll be right here if anything else happens.."

I nod against him, squeezing him for good measure, and then his hand tangles in the hair at the back of my head, running through it lightly until he finally stills a few minutes later and falls back into sleep.

Great, just what I need... Finally a big break, and even from behind the jail bars, he's still haunting me. Still in my brain, trying to disrupt me. Trying to make sure I don't enjoy myself whatsoever. But, I have Robert this time. And then just a few weeks of work and I'll turn in my resignation, and then we'll tell the world, and everything will be okay. I mean, besides the spotlight, and the fear of things getting leaked to the tabloids...

But, Robert's going to be here for this one. It's a new page...a turn of a leaf, a new start. Just having him at the venue will be enough to calm my nerves.

Funny...isn't it? I guess I've sort of traded one addiction for another, but at least this one's healthy. Just his heart beat, his voice, his smile... He's everything Charlie wasn't, and that's the real difference.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drabble and light smut. Enjoy.

I barely get any sleep that night. Most of it is spent drawing patterns on Robert's chest in the darkness, listening to him breathe slowly when he finally passes out to sleep again. His resting face is like marble; ageless. Through the night he twitches every so often, but it's cute, and eventually, he stretches in his sleep and turns his face into my hair, snuggling into me. It's heartwarming, and I close my eyes to at least rest them, even if I can't fall asleep.

When morning comes I realize I did doze off at least for a little bit, because the bed's empty, and so is the room. The sun's up, so it must be mid morning... And when I toss on some normal clothes and make it to the kitchen, Robert's busy making everyone breakfast, the group seated at the island as though it's a diner. And I'm too sleepy to care, so I stumble in and fall against his back as he hovers over the stove, arms enclosing around his waist.

"What're you making?" I ask, but it's so mumbled I'm surprised it's coherent.

"Omelets," he answers and I can hear the grin in his tone. "Like I promised yesterday."

"Mmmm I love you," I sigh, still talking into his back, and he eventually laughs and picks up the pan, shifting me off of him to dish out what he has onto their plates.

Then he turns back to the stove and starts up some for us, I assume, and once he sets down the spatula, he turns to me and leans down to give me a kiss, wrapping his arm around me as he goes back to his cooking shortly after. I take it, leaning against him sleepily.

"Love you more," he answers. "I wanted to let you sleep...you were out like a light when I got up."

"I was?" I ask, doubtful. "I feel like I haven't slept in years..."

"Let's get some coffee in you," he laughs and I groan, hating it, but knowing I need it.

He passes a cup to me and nods toward the coffee pot, full and brewed, and I rise an eyebrow at how much of a housewife he's become this morning.

"So I was thinking of heading to a wing chun class..." he tells me as I serve myself. "Want to join?"

"I..." I sigh. "Yes, but..."

"Right," he agrees, knowing we are still kind of avoiding the scene until we finish making the private announcements.

"Rachel," I hear from behind and my aunt's voice perks into our conversation. "Your mother and I were thinking of getting pedicures, maybe we could get your nails done for the show."

And somehow I'm drug into that instead. Robert says goodbye for the time being, promising to be there before I have to take the stage, and begs one last time to hear something I've written, but I tell him no; it's going to be a surprise.

So here we are, at a nail salon. I never really go to these. Ever. But it's right outside of their community, so it's walking distance, and it's on them, so...why not?

"So you and Robert are quite cozy, aren't you?" my aunt asks as I busy myself texting Devin, who's finally gotten back to me from last night.

D: dude it was like 2am here WTF A TOUR no we need to talk!!! does this mean you're moving?! are you quitting?! shit, can your mom please live me tonight so i can watch?!

Okay. So she's playing 20 questions. Tamely.

"Yeah, I guess," I answer blankly, not wanting to tip anyone off, but quickly realize the staff isn't even listening, anyway.

"They're in love," my mom teases, and I roll my eyes, texting Dev back.

R: coming home tomorrow, can we hang out? i'll give her the phone for the show.

"It's good to see you happy..." Erin tells me and I nod, handing the phone to my mom to look at in the chair next to me. 

"Are you going to tell her?" she asks, and I lean my head back, thinking. 

"I have to at some point. Maybe tomorrow...maybe...I honestly don't know. I feel like she hates him right now. At the beginning she was freaking out about us theoretically getting married as a joke, and now she refuses to believe he's talking to me..."

"Hates? No. She's just not sure why he's so fond of you cause she doesn't know you two have talked so much, so if you tell her..."

"All right, all right..." I mumble. "I have a few weeks before we go to New York, so I'll do it before I leave..."

And thank God the conversation turns to what my aunt's working on at the moment charity wise, because it distracts me from my nerves. The same nerves that come back too easily when we stop at home to grab a late lunch and pick up the wardrobe Robert had gotten for me...I take the romper, knowing black is more my color, and then pack up the guitar. I have four songs and a cover, and I'm nervous about all of them, even the one that's famous. But that's okay, I've been nervous before. I'm used to the stage. Just gotta get Charlie out of my head.

"You ready?" my mom calls from downstairs and I grab the clothes and my guitar and head toward the car, but quickly make my way back into the room almost forgetting the bracelet Robert had given me on the flight over.

"Yeah, yeah I'm coming!" I tell her after I snap it on, remembering what he told me about thinking of him if I wear it.

"Where'd you get that?" she asks when she sees me twisting it around when we start driving, and I blush, clearing my throat.

"It was a gift..."

"From?"

I'm silent but can't help but smile, and she knows. 

"Be careful, Rach..." she warns. "You know I'm okay with this, but I don't want to see you move too fast and get hurt..."

"It's just a piece of jewelry, mom," I answer. "Just a bracelet, not a diamond."

She hums in response but is silent, and so is my aunt, who's typing away to business partners and whatever else. Jon's meeting us down there, as is Robert, and Sting is probably already hanging around. Thank God it' early, so we get to the back easily, though there are some fans hanging out out front. Our car isn't quite what they'd be looking for, though, so they don't bother us when we are let out into the alley to walk toward the exit behind the building.

I follow my steps back to the rooms we can dress in, counting my breaths as I go. I focus on them more and more as my mom insists on doing my makeup, which is weird, because she's only ever done this maybe twice in my life, but whatever. Then she's on my hair, trying desperately to curl it, but it doesn't curl easily, so I watch, amused, as she gives up. Then I excuse myself to change, wanting to just be ready to go. It's nearing time, anyway. Under an hour.

When I step out in the outfit Robert bought, my mom eyes me for a second, then decides to toss me some hoop earrings, and pulls my hair back in a wavy ponytail. And yeah, it looks a little better.

"Good?" I ask nervously, and she nods, standing back to observe.

"Where's Erin?" I ask, noting her disappearance.

"Waiting for Jon outside so he knows where he's going."

Right. Okay. Well, now my nerves are kicking in, and she excuses herself to the bathroom, and I check my watch after pacing the room for a few minutes. About a half hour. Shit.

I look into the mirror in the room, trying to calm myself down and steady my frantic breathing, and then the door opens and I eye it from the reflection, sighing when all I want to see slips in.

"Wow..." he states simply, head tilted slightly and hands in the pockets of a nice jacket, over a pair of dark jeans and those familiar dark frame glasses. "Sorry, I'm looking for my girlfriend, she's supposed to be here somewhere, but..."

"Is it that bad?" I ask, biting my lip as I turn to face him.

"No, it's...can you wear this home tonight?" he asks in a hush, and my eyes widen as I fight the blush at my cheeks. "You gonna be okay?" he asks next.

I sigh, nodding. "Yeah...yeah, I think so."

"Good." He glances at my wrist as I tuck my loose hair behind my ear, and he smirks. "Just look at that if you need me, okay?"

I smile, carefully walking in my boots up to him and wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a thank you kiss, slow and simple.

"Thank you," I whisper when I pull back, and he narrows his eyes, silently acknowledging.

"We'll all be waiting right here when you're done," he answers, and then he kisses my cheek. "For good luck."

"I thought you'd be more...eccentric than this," I tease, and he shrugs it off. 

"Had a pretty good workout," he grins lazily. "I'm hyped for you...but can't always be what ya see on TV, love. But give me a few hours and then I'll be good to go."

He gives me a quick hug and excuses himself to take a seat on the balcony, away from the pubic, so he can watch with my family, and then I need to focus myself. Go over the songs I want to play. One called Dangerous, another I titled Far From Home... Let's see, Problem, and the last is Fighter. All inspirational names, I guess, but I wrote most while I was in rehab...one for Charlie, a couple for that weird in between where I wasn't home and wasn't with Robert and wasn't...anywhere familiar. And one about Robert, though I haven't told him that yet. It's indirect, anyway. And my cover...just an acoustic version of Linger by the Cranberries.

And I won't bore you with the details of it, but my heart's pounding out of my chest. I'm nervous as hell, and fighting to keep my breathing steady. I've done this a hundred times, so I shouldn't be nervous, but I am. And before I go on, there's another knock at my door, and Sting himself wanders in, wishing me good luck and following up with a quick hug.

It's insane, isn't it? How these two men have become sort of like part of my family. Maybe it isn't like that to them, but I don't have much that's close to me outside of Erin, Jon, and a few other relatives of my mom.

I glance at my bracelet again as I grab my guitar and tune it quickly, and then I'm ushered down the hall and toward the stage. Okay, Rachel, stop. This is the same thing you've done at all of your last shows. You'll say hello, do your songs, say you want to end with a cover, and thank them for listening. Good. No Charlie to run back to.

And what's weird...when the curtain is pulled back so I can walk through, I tune out the chatter and immediately search out Robert in the crowd. The lights are on me and they're waiting for something, so I talk while I let my eyes travel the balcony.

"Hey guys, how's everyone doing tonight? You excited to hear Sting play?"

Thank God this is a happy crowd, because they're cheering for that.

And then my eyes land on him; smiling with his chin in his hands as he leans forward over the railing, waiting. I raise my hand, pulling the mic into position, and notice that little music note dangling, and then smile to myself. It gives me the confidence that I need, and I know he knows when I look back and he's turned his expression into a smirk, brown eyes focused on me.

And it goes well. He's got that look...the one where he's thinking but he's observant, and I know he's seen through my lyrics. But by the end, I have people singing the cover song along with me, and there's actual cheering, applauding, when I tell them to hang on for Sting and duck back behind the curtain. I forgot about the lights and the nerves completely, owning what I'm used to and what I used to love to do. 

When I step off stage, the crew is instantly surrounding me, tugging the wires and my guitar from me. I feel like a disgusting, sweaty mess after standing under those lights for a half hour, but I'm too overwhelmed for a shower right now. There's a wide grin plastered on my face in disbelief...people seriously just applauded for me. Me.

Finally, someone hands me a water bottle, and I take a sip and reapply the lid, hopping down the stairs and backstage to the hallway the crew is walking down. I hit solid ground and head towards the room I got ready in, and then I see them gathered outside. My mom's grinning at me and Robert's got his arms out, a big 'I told you so' look plastered on his face...that dorky little pressed lip smile that he uses for Tony.

I know this is a bad idea and word is bound to get out...but I find my feet acting on their own. I hop up and down in excitement, grinning so wide my face scrunches up, and clap my hands together. Then I'm jogging down to them, straight past my family and into his open arms. Thank God we're on the same page, because he catches me right as I jump and wrap my legs around his waist, hands on his cheeks and a big kiss placed on his lips.

"I told you you'd kick ass!" he celebrates after he sets me back down.

"I can't believe it!" I breathe in excitement, shaking my head.

Then I'm pulling him in for another kiss, smiling against his own.

"You know," I hear behind us after my mom clears her throat. "Some of us boring people are proud of you too."

"Sorry," I laugh, turning to give her a hug, followed by Erin and Jon.

"We're so proud of you," Erin sighs over my shoulder.

"Yeah, that's what mom just said," I tease, and Jon gives me his embrace.

"We have a flight to New York in the morning for a meeting," he tells me, "so we have to take off, but how about you three hang out and enjoy yourselves?"

I turn to my mom in question and she shrugs in agreement. And then when I turn back, Robert's shaking Jon's hand and Erin gives him his own hug with a smile.

"Very nice getting to know you a little better, Robert," Jon bids goodbye, and my aunt winks at me.

"Please stop by any time, either of you."

I nod and my mother take a turn to say goodbye, but only for the night, and then I turn to Robert, grinning up at him like never before.

"Did you see that?!" I ask, excited again.

"I did," he smirks. "I heard it too. Writing about your life?"

I close my eyes, feeling like a deer in headlights and sort of almost ashamed...weird, right? But he takes my hand in his and catches my attention again, soft as ever.

"It's good," he promises. "I mean, I paint and do wing chun and yoga for my outlets. Writing your songs is one of yours."

"So you're not mad?"

"Mad?" he laughs, shaking his head. "No. Fucking proud as hell though, yes. Wish I would've had you writing on my album."

"The next one," I tease, squeezing his hand.

"You sure you wanna go out there?" he asks next, looking at the doorway to the front. "I don't have much to go incognito and you're kinda a hit here tonight..."

I take deep breath, debating it, but ultimately...this is gonna happen sometime, right?

"To celebrate?"

"You deserve it."

"I mean, if we can keep the friend thing going, but...as for the stardom, I guess it'll be good to ease into it."

And that's exactly what happens. My mom leads, Robert behind me, and it's funny how they escort me to the back where the bar is after Sting takes the stage...just to make sure the crowd's attention is on him. But it doesn't matter much; my mom orders drinks, and while we're waiting, it's incredibly hard to refrain from touching Robert. I have so much pent up energy, and I think he can tell, but he's busy being asked for a photo by someone to his side, and then a second, who surprisingly asks for one with both of us. 

Weird. Our first photo with a fan together. This could get interesting...

When my mom hands me a drink, we make our way back to where they were seated before, up some stairs and to the catwalk up top, where we can stay out of the crowd. She's having the time of her damn life, at her first Sting concert since the 80s, and I know she's excited.

She refills our drinks twice before she ducks out around eleven, wanting to get up and see my aunt and uncle in the morning before we head to the airport. She takes my things and a cab back, leaving George hanging out out back with the town car when we want to leave.

"I'd ask you to dance," Robert shouts over the song once she disappears and I down my third vodka and cranberry, "but..."

"I mean...friends dance, right?" I ask. "We danced at your uh, your..."

"Birthday?" he asks, amused.

"Right, birthday!" I agree, nearly shouting it in glee.

"Maybe you should slow down there, babe," he suggests in good taste.

"Why?" I ask with a grin, leaning into him.

"Because," he states with warning, grabbing my shoulders and telling me silently to keep my distance. "You wanna stay quiet still, right? So no...touching..."

He trails off when I pull my arms from him and wrap them over his shoulders instead, pressing my body up to his. Need I say it? Alcohol.

"You asked to dance," I remind him.

"Rach..." he groans when I start to not so innocently sway my hips again him. "This is definitely not how friends dance..."

"But this is an upbeat song!" I protest, and he swallows noticeably.

"We're going clubbing when we're official," he nearly whispers, his eyes ducking down to watch me dance...basically alone, but against him. "Cause this...yeah, this is..."

"Well," I breathe heavily, detaching my hands from him and running them through my hair, which has now fallen down. "You want me to stop drinking, and I-"

"Didn't say that, just want you to enjoy your night," he frowns. "Not forget it."

"- want to touch you, so..."

He sucks in a breath, eyes flaring.

"How about we get out of here?" I suggest, and he nods quickly agreeing. 

"Yup. Yup, good idea, I like that idea."

So we manage to get out the back with only a few glances from people on the floor, and George is waiting for us to go back to Malibu. And thank God this car has a divider, because the second their driver puts it up to give us some privacy, Robert's got his hand on my thigh and he's pulling my leg over his lap. My hands find his face, and my lips attach to his in a drunken kiss, sort of like whatever happened in New York. I mean, this time I'm at least a little coherent...it's not quite as bad. But I did something right, because he's got his tongue in my mouth in the shortest of moments, and it's a heated make out session the entire way home, his hands roaming over my chest and my legs, as tame as he can be without undressing us in the backseat.

And at some point near the end of our trip, he detaches from me, his mouth going for my neck with small nips, and all I can hear is his ragged breathing in my ear, until he kisses right where my neck meets my shoulder and I fall like putty in his grasp, shuddering.

"You like that?" he grins against me.

"Yes," I breathe in a whisper, losing myself to his touch.

The way his beard scratches against my skin, how he flicks his tongue against that same spot over and over again, giving me no mercy...

But he's forced to finally let me go when we reach the community, and I try my best to straighten up my hair and clothes just in case my mom's still up. Thank God she's not; all the lights are off and her door's closed when we pass, and when we reach the bedroom, I close the door behind us, not so quietly, and he sits on the edge of the bed, running his hand through his hair. 

"We should probably keep quiet...you know, your mother being right next door and all... And sorry, about the uh..." he mumbles, motioning toward me. 

I narrow my eyes in confusion, making my way to the bathroom to inspect, and notice the already bruised spot forming on my collar. Great. How am I gonna hide this one in the beginning of summer at work? There's only so much cover up can do.

And then my bold self decides to take advantage of this; if he wants to play, I can play. So I quickly strip out of everything but my underwear, bra, and boots, and when I return, he's up and taking his jacket and shoes off, casually, over whatever we had in the car.

Well, until I clear my throat and lean against the doorway and he presses his lips together, staring.

"Well, you have my attention," he nearly growls, and I smirk, strutting over to him and pushing his chest lightly until he sits back down on the bed.

Without a word, I run my hands down his chest over his t shirt as I sink down into his lap facing him, and he watches me with such focus I'm pretty sure he's forgotten how to breathe. And then I swivel my hips and pull myself back up, chest in his face as his eyes follow. His hands subconsciously grab for my hips, holding on lightly as I move.

"Like what you see, Mr Downey?" I ask, trying my best to sound seductive, but I don't know if I am or not, I never really tried outside of that last time I had drank around him.

"Are you...are you seriously giving me a lap dance right now?" he chokes out and I grin, nodding, then pulling off of him to turn around.

 

"Shit," he curses, his hands finding their way back to me as I lean forward and touch my hands to the ground, giving him a good look of my ass in the process.

Thank you, yoga, for making this all possible... I move against him and his jeans feel tighter already, even to me. He's not quiet about it either, as he leans back a little to get a better view.

"Rach..." he breathes, voice low and husky. "Fuck, you're killing me here."

Smirking, I push myself up and nearly trip as my head's spinning. Funny, I'm not graceful at all and he's still finding this hot. But I manage to turn, reaching behind me to release the clasp on my bra and letting it fall form my shoulders before tugging my underwear down. I go for the boots, but he grabs my arm, swallowing nervously.

"Can we uh...can we keep the boots on?"

I bite my lip, holding in laughter. "Really?"

"What?!" he asks shyly, tugging his shirt off before me.

"You have a boot kink?!"

"I have..a lot of kinks..." he mumbles, and then he's standing to kick out of his jeans and boxers, tossing his wallet on the bed for obvious reasons. "Now we're both naked, though, so the rule is no talking."

"I might be drunk but I know that's not a rule," I laugh as he pulls me to him and spins me around so he can lay me down on the bed, my knees bent so the soles of my shoes lie flat.

"Oh, it's a rule," he smirks, then hushes me with a kiss.

He fumbles with the pocket of his wallet for a few seconds, then successfully pulls condom free and wraps himself, and then he's back to his kisses, one hand traveling down between us to make sure I'm ready for him. And then I accidentally bite his lip as he pushes in, earning a genuine moan from him.

And God, even drunk, this is still the best sex I have had. He's steady, but he's hitting hard enough to actually feel something and that mixed with his grunts and the way his hands travel up and down my legs as he kisses at the same time does magic. My hands tangle in his soft hair as he thrusts, drinking in the feel of his hot skin against mine. And it sucks, because I'm struggling to stop thinking about leaving this for two weeks...

And as if we're on the same page, he pulls away from my mouth, needing air, and then he's burying his head in the pillow.

"I love you," he manages, and I bite my lip when he starts to get erratic with his movements, just in time for me to start feeling that familiar bliss creeping in.

"Fuck, yes..." I groan, wrapping my arms fully around him.

And then he's turning my head toward him, despite me holding him on top of me as he hits faster.

"Kiss me," he begs, and I oblige, meeting his soft lips with my own.

And then he's sighing in relief when he finally lets go and collapses down over me, muffling my gasp of his name with his tongue as I follow.

"We're getting good at that..." he pants, rolling off of me. "That whole finishing together part..."

"Yeah," I answer, at a loss for words as I relax into the bed and reach down with whatever will I have left to unzip my boots and toss them aside.

He laughs, burying his face in the pillow in embarrassment, and it's the cutest shit I've seen all day when he peeks an eye out at me. 

"Sorry I'm weird..." he grins sheepishly, and I close my eyes with a smirk.

"It's okay, you're my weirdo."


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if anyone is still reading this and has any weird simple relationship quirks you want me to toss in here at some point, please let me know. Ie like if they have a song, or like their first time grocery shopping together..you know, the odd normal stuff.

Surprise! My head's throbbing when I finally stir, and I'm hugging the sheets close to my face. I take a deep breath, then roll over dramatically, letting my arm drop across the other side of the bed. Only I don't realize Robert's still there, sitting up on his phone, and I smack it right out of his hand.

"Ow what the hell?!" I complain, grasping my hand back in pain; I mean, I hit it pretty hard.

"I'm sorry, are you and my phone fighting?" he muses in his playful tone, raising an eyebrow at me as I sit up against the pillows, sucking on my hand where it hit.

"I forgot you were here..." I mumble into my skin and he fake gasps.

"I feel so loved."

"You? I'm the one with a broken hand," I pout.

He smirks, picking the phone back up. "You're being dramatic. And you're the one who attacked it."

I sigh, sitting leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "Are we past the honeymoon phase already?"

I can tell he's glancing at me with amusement, so I look back over and he holds his arm up. "No," he says, nodding into his side, "get in here."

I sigh, shifting to hug his torso like the night before, and take a deep breath as I snuggle into him and he drapes his arm over my shoulders.

"I love you," I say in my best cute voice, and he chuckles. "Even if you don't care that I'm hurt."

"You'll be fine," he tells me, and then I wink an eye open, peeking at him.

"Were you smoking in the house?" I ask when I realize he smells faintly of cigarette.

"Nope. Woke up early so I took a walk to the deck," he answers while he goes back to scrolling on his phone.

"And you came back to bed?"

Honestly, I'm surprised. But he furthers that feeling when he leans down and kisses me on the top of my head.

"Of course. It's our last morning together," he reminds me, and I'm not so thrilled about that. "And what better way to spend an anniversary than waking up with the person I love?"

I press my eyebrows together in confusion. "Anniversary?"

He smirks again. "One week."

"Only a week?!" I groan. "I feel like it's been longer..."

"You're sure dishing out the compliments today, aren't you?" he teases.

"Sorry..." I mumble. "I meant that in a good way. Feels like we've been together since-"

"April?"

"Yeah..."

"Yeah, well, according to the internet we are," he tells me and then takes a breath.

I watch him scroll through the article on his phone, a news article...paparazzi article, really. Great. We made the headlines...all from those photos with the couple of fans that spotted us at the bar during Sting's set.

"Iron Man found his Pepper?" I read out loud, then laugh into his chest. "Really?"

"Trust me, they can come up with some crazy titles. This is normal."

He scrolls down to the photos of us with the people who snapped them, and honestly...we don't look half bad as a couple. I'd be totally fine doing this kinda stuff for a while..I think. Especially if we didn't have to pretend not to be together or say goodbye every other month, or...

Fuck, goodbye. I don't want to, but I have to. And before I know it, we're back at the airport. 

My mom's taking my aunt and uncle's jet to Pittsburgh with me, and Robert's called his in to take him back to Atlanta. And hell, I hate this so much. Remember when I said I get emotional with goodbyes when he dropped me off after New York? Yeah, this one's worse, because now there's something to miss. But there's also something I'll be taking with me; our relationship. Part of him that I didn't have before. Before it was just loneliness, fear of going back to Charlie...but now, things can only go up, right?

"Do I have to?" I groan, leaning into him as he slips his arms around my waist with a chuckle.

"I'll see you in like two weeks. Actually, not even two."

"I know, but..."

"So come down early, we'll have a few days, party it up at wrap," he laughs, "and then we'll ditch this town and never look back."

I shoot him an amused look and he grins.

"Okay, or we'll never look back till...the next movie. You get me."

"I have rehearsals here next week," I remind him, thinking about the details Sting had discussed with us at dinner; the wrap party and the interview are fine, but I can't come any earlier than originally planned, and that sucks.

"Right," he comments. "So professional..."

"I don't have the power you do with Marvel," I tease. "But I'll be back a week from Wednesday."

"Sounds perfect," he agrees. "I'll call you when I can, okay? And I'll give you access to my calendar online in case you need to know what I'm up to."

"So professional..." I joke back, mocking his words, and he smirks behind his sunglasses.

"Rach, time to go!" I hear my mom call from somewhere near the plane, and I sigh, falling against Robert's chest again and hugging him tightly.

"And hey, this time I know I get to see you again and hug you and kiss you..." he reminds me, and then I am forced to look up with watery eyes and steal him in a kiss, enjoying the last touch for right now.

He kisses my cheek when he finally detaches from me, nodding toward my plane. "You should go..."

I fake a smile and nod, wiping my eye with my sleeve, and he tilts is head, watching.

"Don't cry, pretty girl. Call me or text me whenever you want, okay? Trust me, it'll get a lot easier after I wrap."

I agree, knowing he's right, and then we share another hug before I give a small wave and reluctantly board my flight home.

My mom makes fun of me, of course, for being so emotional, but I don't think she gets it. This is the man who's in the spotlight and could have anyone he wants, yet he wants me. This is the man who risked his name to help me get clean, the man who's going behind everyone's backs to make sure we don't announce things until I'm ready for that spotlight. So I decide to put in my headphones and take a long nap until we land.

Devin comes over that night, wanting nothing more than to harass me with questions from the show. My mom recorded it live for her so she could watch, but I guess it was still a little different than actually being there. Most of her questions pertain to Robert, anyway, and the photos she saw.

"So he just...came to the show? Really? Why?!" she asked, stuffing her face with a piece of pizza on my couch.

I sit with my cat, finally being able to see him again, and take a sip of my water, shrugging. I'm trying to play it off, cause honestly...I can't tell her yet. It's just...not yet. Before I leave. Like right before I leave, so I can avoid the twenty questions.

"He had a few days off and wanted to come."

"I still can't believe he just...let everything go," she sighs, then reads my glare. "I mean, not that he shouldn't have, cause he should've, cause you're clean, and..."

"Relax," I laugh. "Dev, it's fine. I fucked up, but I'm good now. And I thanked him and we're just moving past it."

"We're, like...still?" she answers with narrowed eyes.

"Yeah," I swallow nervously. "Things are gonna change, Devin."

"Well, yeah, that's what happens when you go on a national tour," she quips, and I roll my eyes.

"I know, I know. I just mean..I think I'm quitting my job. I'm gonna tell them tomorrow."

"Really?" she asks, sounding unsure, but I nod, passing her an envelope.

"This is just the first of the payouts for our song on the radio," I tell her.

"Almost ten thousand dollars?!"

"I know," I answer. "I sort of had a panic attack when I opened that earlier. I still am. But it's like, sunk in. I mean, that's just the first week, Devin. The first week!"

"How fucking much are they paying you?!" she gasps.  
"Only like a penny a play. It all adds up."

"Holy shit..."

"I know...and, well, Robert invited me to their wrap party next weekend, so I think I'm going to that, too... Dev, I'm gonna be gone for a while."

"Shit..." she repeats, but this time sad. "You're gonna be all big and famous and I'm never gonna see you again, huh?"

"No!" I insist. "No, I promise... Why don't..." I groan internally at the idea, but... "Why don't you come visit Robert with me?" I suggest. "Girl time before I leave on tour, and then we can hang out as much as you want when I get back!"

"You want me to...you want me to see the set of Iron Man?!" she nearly shrieks, and Aero jumps off my lap in annoyance, disappearing to the bedroom. 

"I mean, I'll have to run it by him and there's legal stuff involved and..."

"Are you sure?!"

"I guess," I decide finally. "I'll text him and ask... I thought you didn't have any time off?"

"I do," she sighs, "just couldn't get that weekend off for your show...honestly...I wasn't sure if you were still doing it after everything, so I never took it off and then it was too late..."

"It's okay," I reassure.

And that's how Devin got invited to set. Not the best move on my part, but it gives me even more time to figure out how exactly to inform her that not only did Robert and I stay friends through everything, but we're actually dating. Like, I'm in a relationship with a Hollywood movie star. Because that's such a normal thing...she'll go nuts. Or hate me. One of the two. I mean, I'm surprised I haven't collapsed and died and fan girled yet...

But, that happened when I had to go to work Monday morning. The night before I couldn't sleep, laying awake thinking about how the hell I'm going to tell them this is my last week. Is it the right move? I can't even tell. Shit could always fail miserably and this could just be a fluke song, but...

I grab my phone, texting Robert for the first time all weekend; I feel a little guilty about that, but I didn't want to bother him, and he never texted me, so...

R: i miss you

And then I sat there for maybe another twenty minutes, until eventually the phone buzzed again, lighting up the dark room with artificial light.

TS: Just got a break, night shoot. You still up?

The giddy smile that I make while I finally get a few seconds to chat with him, even through text, is more than enough to help me relax.

R: yeah

TS: I was worried you didn't like me anymore. 

He's teasing me, but I can detect that. He may be an actor, but he's pretty transparent with me. That's okay, though. I like him this way...more personal, more mine.

R: how could i ever stop liking you?!

TS: I'm saving that one for that day you do.

R: stop, you know i won't..

TS: Right. Fan girl. Forgot.

Kidding. How's PA?

R: boring. work tomorrow...gonna tell them the news

TS: You mean the incredibly unbelievable news that you're going on a tour with a superstar and you're dating one of Forbes most paid actors?

R: i am?! shit, where is he?!

TS: Well played... :'(

R: can i ask you something?

TS: You just did.

R: jerk

you think I'm doing the right thing? quitting?

like, you think I'm actually gonna be able to do this? 

TS: Nerves? Of course you will. You blew em away, remember?

R: yeah, and you ;)

I decide to be playful, lighten the mood; he's right. The audience there loved me, and Cali is a hard game to play.

TS: Don't tease, Miss Thomas...

R: oh yeah, or what?

There's a moment without a response, and then...

TS: You'll see when you get here.

We say goodnight shortly after that, and then the big day at work is on my doorstep. I tell the head of the department, but keep it silent until Friday, somehow. The gossip news is still full of Robert and I, and May and Jack are back to asking me a million questions between shifts, but I try not to give them too much information until the end of the week.

"You moving desks?" May finally asks, even though I've been boxing up my stuff slowly throughout the day.

"I'm...moving home," I tell her, and she just blinks at me while it processes.

"You're leaving?" Jack asks with a frown as he peeks his head over his computer.

I fake a smile and nod. "I'm so sorry, guys...I just hate goodbyes, and..."

"Today's your last day?!" May finally speaks and I nod again.

"An opportunity came up and I couldn't say no, and..."

"An opportunity or a man?" May smirks, letting her shoulders rest. "Don't think I didn't see that mark on your neck earlier this week."

I blush hard, completely forgetting about Robert leaving that there, and my hand goes to my skin without realizing it, touching that spot even though it's long gone now.

"That boy from before isn't making you do this, is he?" Jack asks hesitantly and I shake my head with a smile.

"No, no, not at all. He's still locked up somewhere."

"Then who?" May asks, but her face already figures it out when I subconsciously linger on the photo of Robert and I I'm putting in my box. "No, no way!"

I open my mouth to speak but can only smile in response, not sure what to do other than shrug with guilt and try to suck up to my work friends.

"What?!" Jack asks, oblivious.

But May's on her own agenda. "You're for real?! Like not just 'oh I like him' but 'oh he likes me back'?!" 

I nod again, sheepish, and dig out my phone for proof: the selfie Robert and I took from bed in Atlanta, kissing. Thank God I was clothed.

"Oh my God," she breathes, then looks back up at me. "You've kissed him?!"

"May!" I hiss, trying to hush her. "We haven't told anyone yet and...well, it was definitely more than kissing."

"Of all the years we sat here joking about him and...and now you're sleeping with him too?!" she whispers.

"Will someone tell me who we're talking about?!" Jack interrupts, and then we're both laughing, amused at how out of the loop we've left him.

Eventually they agree to stay hush about it until I announce it publicly, and then before I know it it's time to go. So, I grab my stuff and hug them both.

"Don't forget about us when you're a big star out there," May nearly cries when she says goodbye. 

And it breaks my heart, it does, but not as much as when I have to say goodbye to Aero; he's staying with my mom and the dog while I'm gone and I can't stand the thought of being away from him. He's my baby, and lately I've neglected him so much...but maybe, maybe if this settles down, I can come back to him and spend as much time as I want with him. Yeah, I'm a cat mom, so what?

LA isn't that exciting, believe it or not. I'm working on more tracks, trying to come up with something to play a little longer than what I opened with the last time. This is a big deal. This is going to be a couple sold out shows to thousands.

At one point, the photos from the photographer come in and Sting meets with me to go over some last minute poster options; they're stunning, really, and I actually look like I'm having fun, which is my favorite part. No nerves. Of course I immediately sent a copy of my favorites to Robert.

R: LOOK AT THESE i just got them back!!

TS: Babe I'm at work, this is gonna be a distraction!

R: keep it in your pants, downey :P

TS: You say that now...

You look great, though. Happy. I love you

R: love you more <3

There's some more messages exchanged about when I'm flying in, and I realized I still haven't told him about Devin. So, after a few days of going over stage positions at an empty building in LA with Sting, I text him again.

R: You mind if Devin tags along for the couple days in Atlanta? she's kinda freaking out about us not hanging out while i'm gone

To which all he says back is...

TS: Face time me.

Uh, okay. So I quickly pull my hair down from it's messy bun and request the face time call, waiting impatiently for him to answer. Is he mad? Great. He doesn't want her there, what was I thinking?

"Hey..." I greet when he answers, but he's across the room holding up two different shirts.

"Hey, which one of these goes better?"

I blink stupidly, not processing, until I point to the one on the left. "The gray one?"

"Okay, thanks!" he grins, then tosses the other back in the closet and pulls that one over his head, covering his bare chest that I'm looking at and making me frown, and he notices as he approaches the camera and picks up the phone. "Relax, you'll get to see this hot bod all you want in a couple days."

I roll my eyes, immediately amused by his sass and self confidence. Man, I wish he could pass some on to me.

"You okay?"

"Yeah..." I answer warily. "Is that all?"

"Oh," he grins, "yeah. Group's going to dinner and I couldn't decide...and I just wanted to see you."

"I'm a disgusting mess right now," I tell him seriously. "Rehearsals suck."

"But you're my disgusting mess," he tosses back and I smirk.

"So, Devin..." I push, and he nods.

"It's cool. We'll need her autograph on those docs you signed but since we're pretty much wrapped now, no big deal."

The next few days we go over stage placing and set lists and where we're meeting when I get back to LA after Fallon in New York, and then, finally, I'm back on a plane to Atlanta, meeting Devin at the airport. Thank God time flies...

This time I'm flying commercial, to meet her at the terminal, and I'm thankful no one recognizes me enough to come up and say hi; I'm too excited about seeing Robert again and don't want to accidentally let something slip. A few do shoot me glances, though, and I know they know. I just smile in return and wait at Devin's gate for her arrival, impatient.

And then finally...

"Rach!" she yelps. "Hi!"

"Hey," I greet with a smile and a hug. "You excited?"

"I am! And you're...you seem like such a different person..." she observes. "I like it."

"Thanks," I laugh lightly. "LA wore me out, but I'm looking forward to this weekend."

"Girls weekend?" she begs, and inside my heart's falling, knowing she's going to try to steal me for good all weekend, with little alone time with Robert; great.

"Yeah, yeah," I cave. "Let's uh...well, let's get to the car and get us to my hotel room?"

We grab my bags first, then head toward pick up, where Robert arranged a car to meet us. He's left my hotel room booked, despite me not being there, but I guess he can afford it. So we easily drop off our stuff. There's papers waiting for us that we can take to set, so we don't have to stop by that office space again, and then we head towards the familiar place I spent most of the earlier parts of the month.

"Please act cool," I beg when we arrive, and she promises me, though I don't think she can keep it.

No sooner than we wander out of the car does Robert walk out with Don, discussing something or other, and then he notices us and a wide smile covers his face.

"Has it been two weeks already?!" he celebrates, and then I'm finally back in his embrace, sharing a hug I wish could last longer than a few seconds, but it can't.

I missed his touch, his strong frame, that familiar scent and those brown locks on his head... But I can't act on it. Yet, he goes to give me a kiss and I turn my cheek, letting him kiss there instead. He pulls back, confused, and I eye him, and thank God he catches on, because he's instinctively going into acting mode, as if nothing ever happened, and also gives Devin a hug and a kiss on the cheek. It's normal for him, and I know she doesn't even let it phase her. She knows I like him, so she'd never act on his affection.

"Right, so, we were just talking about dinner later. Last cast dinner, you guys up for it?"

"Like...with all of them?!" Devin squeaks, and he nods with a smirk. 

"Yup, all of us Gods will be there."

I roll my eyes and gesture toward the trailers instead. "Dev, want to see where he gets ready?"

She nods and then turns toward them, but I don't miss the questioning glance I get from Downey before I go, asking why I still haven't told her. But that explanation can wait until later...for now, I'm going to show her around, and he's back to his conversation with Don after flashing me another smile and mouthing 'I love you'.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice long chapter full of surprises. Enjoy! Let me know if anyone's still liking this.

I spend the rest of the day on set with Devin, letting her freak out over them filming. It's almost normal to me now, and I know most of the plot, so I'm not as wide eyed with everything. But I still can't wait to see it finished...and see the parts I missed while I was away.

"And they really have him running around the set like that?!" she asks, confused. "What if he gets hurt?!"

"He'll be fine," I assure her, scrolling through my phone and reading more of the articles that have surfaced since we were spotted two weeks ago; they've since drug up the abuse case against Charlie, and have escalated to tearing apart that post of Robert's hand in mine I put up a while back...though they don't know it's him.

"Wow, what happened to fan girl Rachel?" she presses.

I sigh, putting the phone down as I watch Downey glance at me from set, then go back to his directions. "They put Charlie in the news," I tell her.

She frowns and she knows I'm slightly upset and angry about it, but doesn't pester me. "And you and that fine specimen are also all over the news, so what? They post drama just to make it. None of it's real."

I appreciate her attempt, but it is real. All of it, actually. Charlie's part and Downey, though she doesn't know that yet.

Thankfully, the rest of our chat is just in reaction to the things they have Robert and Don doing, and a couple laughs at their mess ups, and then we're nearing dinner time.

"And...that's a wrap for today!" Kevin calls out, and a bell rings somewhere, and then there's cheering and clapping from the cast and crew. "Last scenes tomorrow."

Robert takes a bow like the eccentric weirdo he is, playing up the spotlight, and then they're announcing dinner outside.

"Ready to eat?" I hear when I hop out of the set chairs, and Robert's strolling up to us, toweling the fake blood off his face in the process.

"Of course!" Devin agrees with a wide grin. "I have like a million questions, by the way. But uh, is there a bathroom I can use first?"

I sigh and roll my eyes but Robert politely motions down one of the back halls and she smiles and quickly takes off. I watch her go, knowing she's about to come back and nag him with movie questions. But then I turn back to him, thankful for a moment alone...and apparently, so is he.

His lips are on me faster than I can react, his hands grasping my hips, and I smirk against him, amused at how needy he's being. So, my hands run up his chest and I stand on my toes to help him out, eager to kiss him back, until Gwyneth clears her throat and strolls by.

"She's gonna come back eventually, you know," she teases, and I sigh, detaching myself from him; she's right. "You haven't told anyone still?"

"Soon," Robert tells her, and then his focus is back on me. "I've been wanting to do that all day."

"I'm sorry," I sigh. "I'll tell her tonight, I promise..."

Only I don't. I would go over the dinner, but it's pretty similar to any of the others I've been to with them. Kinda like his birthday, actually. Devin's the one to fan girl, though, and she's asking the four of them a million questions, ranging from on set stuff to asking about quirks Tony has in previous movies or the relationship between he and Pepper or whatever else comes to mind. It's actually much worse than I ever hit them with, but they're all kind and slightly amused, so they answer them.

"So, uh..." I mumble when Devin yawns. "I guess we're gonna head back to the hotel room soon."

"Right," Robert states, trying his best not to look depressed about that, but I can tell. "Well, the party's tomorrow afternoon. And our flight doesn't leave until Saturday, so other than that, whatever you girls wanna do..."

"Well, I definitely need to find something for Fallon..." I tell him. "Since I don't have a big fancy stylist like you do."

"Shopping trip?" Devin asks, obviously excited. "Is there a good shopping place around here? Mall? Outlet?"

"Yeah, there's stuff a couple minutes out," I answer, and Robert's quick to offer his hand, as always.

"Do you want my card?" he asks, taking a sip of his drink, and I shake my head, cheeks heating up.

"No no," I insist, "I jut got all of that money from the song, remember? I can afford a dress..."

"Just take it anyway," he presses, pulling out his wallet, and I take a breath and give him that look that should tell him to stop trying, but he smirks and pushes it on me anyway; man, he's courageous.

"You're just...giving us your money?" Devin stutters, staring at the plastic piece on the table before I groan and pocket it with sass.

"He's not going to take no for an answer," I complain, and he smirks and nods, sitting back in his seat with his arms crossed behind his head.

"You know me so well."

Devin blinks, silent, and watches us, eyes flickering between us, until I finally stand and clear my throat, not wanting to get into this now. I know I promised Robert, but I can't. I'm too nervous, too scared of her reaction in front of everyone. We need to be alone, we need to be somewhere like...the hotel, by ourselves. Yeah, I'll tell her before bed. Shit, that won't work, she'll keep me up with questions and overreactions and-

"I'll text the driver, he'll meet you guys out front," Robert adds, breaking into my thoughts.

I look at him with wide eyes and nod, taking a deep breath, and it gives me away, I guess.

"Devin, could you give us a second?" he asks politely, and she isn't any less inquisitive as she hesitantly agrees.

He pulls me aside, just out of range, and pretends to be refilling a drink and handing it to me to go.

"You need to relax," he urges, but out of kindness, not annoyance. "It's not gonna be that big of a deal."

"I just..." I start, accepting the drink. "I can't lose her, too. Okay, I've been lying to her, and..."

"She'll understand."

"I don't know if she will."

He cracks his jaw, thinking. "Okay...okay, well, what if I tell her?"

"No, that'd even worse!" I whisper, and he sighs.

"Okay," he agrees, his eyes warm and understanding, and I want nothing more than to reach up and brush the piece of hair that's hanging over his forehead back. "How about you go get some sleep, we can tell her tomorrow. Together."

I toss the idea around in my head, and then nod, agreeing. "Okay...okay, yeah."

He shakes his head, raising his eyebrows, and lets out his words on a breath. "If this is how bad you panic about telling people things, I don't even want to know how you're gonna tell the rest of the world."

"They're different," I pout. "I don't owe them the respect of telling them personally."

"All right, all right," he defends, hands up. 

But now I'm on a roll, and I quickly retrieve his card and shove it back into his front pocket. "And keep this, I'm not using it."

"Rachel-" he smirks, protesting, but I cut him off.

"No!" I say with another whisper. "I can pay for my own."

"Fine," he states simply, crossing his arms.

"You two sound like you're married already," comes from behind me next, and that's when I realize Gwyneth has come over to get another glass of wine.

Great, this is embarrassing.

"Not yet," Robert teases, and I whip my head back to him with wide eyes, and he bursts out laughing. "Christ, babe, relax!"

"Robert!" I hiss under y breath, glancing at Devin. "She's gonna hear!"

"What, that I called you babe?" he asks. "She literally just mentioned marriage." Then he loosens up and pulls me into a hug, slightly calming down my fired up spirit. "Can I just hug you goodnight please?"

Sighing, I hug him back and nod against his chest. "Yes..."

"Try to relax, everything will be fine. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon?"

I nod, then bid goodnight, and he smiles after me when I go to join Devin. I hand her the glass, offering it to her since I don't need it, and then we're heading to the car to take it back to the hotel.

Sometime before bed I wind up texting Robert, apologizing for being such a panicked bitch, and he's sweet as ever, understanding. And that's when I know it has to be tomorrow. I can't keep doing this to him.

R: i love you. sorry i'm such a mess.

TS: You're my mess. :)

R: you keep saying that...

I missed you, you know. i'll tell her tomorrow. because I just want to be able to kiss you again.

TS: Hmmm, just kiss?

R: among other things... ;)

TS: Care to fill me in?

R: maybe tomorrow, downey. i gotta get some sleep tonight, you know!

Thankfully, Dev's tired so she doesn't pester me until the morning. Then she's fully rested, and oh, is our shopping trip fun...not.

"And you gave it back?!" she yelps while we're walking when I tell her I haven't kept his card.

"Devin, we don't need it."

"You must be delusional," she snaps. "Oh wait, you are because you also don't believe he's in love with you."

I cough, playing it off, but I'm trying not to panic about that. "I thought you were the one telling me he's done being my friend?" 

"Right," she answers, and I detect a falter on her voice now that we're in person. "About that..."

And that stops me completely in my tracks. "About what?"

"Nothing, come on," she urges, tugging my arm toward a window. "This store looks nice."

"Devin."

I'm firm with my stance, making sure she can't pull me aside. So she caves, looking at the street instead of me.

"Okay. I don't think that, I still think he likes you."

I narrow my eyes, tilting my head. I'm hurt, honestly. But I'll let her give her side first.

"Look," she groans, "I don't want to start anything when things are going so well. I really don't..."

"Devin," I repeat, and she sighs.

"Fine, fine! Downey...Robert, he told me to tell you those things. Okay, he wanted to have a clean break, but I couldn't stand to see you so hopeful, so I bought you the ticket so he could tell you himself and-"

"I'm sorry, what?!" I interrupt, heart racing and the confusion coursing through my veins; I'm angry, now, yet I do feel like I'm the verge of crying.

"I'm sure that's not what he wants anymore," she promises. "Rach, come on, you guys are doing great, and-"

"So you both lied to me," I say quietly, and she opens her mouth to beg, but nothing else is said, because someone approaches us to the side.

"Excuse me, but are you...you're the girl who sings with Sting, right?"

I want to keep my dark mood. To not give Devin the satisfaction of thinking I'm okay. But my career is just now taking off, and I'm honestly surprised someone recognized me, so I put on a happy face and fake my composure for a moment, just long enough to tell him yes and take a photo with him.

But the rest of the day is ruined, now, I think. I feel that tug in the pit f my stomach, that nagging that won't go away until I can address things for myself. How dare he? Play with me like that? Play with me now. I could tell her now, now that I don't think she hates him. He could've made this so much easier on me. 

At some point before we return, I send him a text, finally thinking coherently enough to not flip out on the spot. I do that....a lot. Get angry or upset, don't think it through...don't cool down. But cooling down isn't going to help much, not unless he has a good reason for lying to me...

R: Can we talk?

We wind up making it back about a half hour late, but I'm not concerned about that right now. Devin's been quiet, knowing I'm upset. And then she goes with me to his trailer to temporarily drop off our shopping bags before we go to join the music and food in the lot.

My phone buzzes in my hand as we walk.

TS: Uh oh, proper grammar...am I in trouble?

I ignore it, it's only fueling me more. And then I immediately head for the open bar, ordering shots; more than one.

TS: Babe?

"You sure you're okay?" Devin asks quietly, but she can tell I'm not, that's apparent.

"Yup," I mumble, then down two shots of straight vodka, fast.

I order another, and a vodka and cranberry to nurse on afterwards, needing the sting of it. Something to give me courage to confront him, because I hate confrontations.

"Why don't we go?" Devin asks, ordering herself a soda for now. "If you don't want to see him, we can-"

"I'm fine," I break in, forcing a fake smile.

Then another buzz.

TS: Are you here yet?

I put the phone back in my pocket, then take my next shot and sigh, feeling relieved.

"So uh...you think he likes you too?" Devin asks, finally taking a seat next to me, and I shrug.

"Not really sure."

"I mean, why else would he give you his credit card like that?"

"He's done it before."

But it buzzes too quickly again and as fired up as I still am, I check it.

TS: Is everything okay?

So I finally answer it, now feeling like having this conversation.

R: Bathroom, five minutes.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, okay?" I tell Devin and she nods, but she looks concerned. "Just a minute to regroup."

"Okay..."

And then I shove off of the seat and take my drink with me, sipping at it as I make my way through the lot and to the closest set building. My eyes catch his though when I notice him, and I quickly divert my gaze and try not to let it affect me. But God, is he gorgeous, dressing in loose pants and a t shirt and blue glasses with matching shoes. Such a weird sense of style, but I love it.

I tap my glass and look in the mirror when I make it to the women's room, but I don't have even a second to think before the door opens and he steps inside, worry on his face.

"Women's bathroom?" he asks, shutting the door behind him. "Kinky."

I lower my eyes to my glass and try my best to keep my voice calm and steady, ignoring his comment. "Did you tell Devin to tell me you wanted nothing to do with me anymore?"

His smirk slowly fades when I look back up, but he doesn't say anything. He's thinking, trying to plan out his answer. And...he's guilty.

I swallow, turning and leaving my glass there, and try to keep myself from yelling by taking a breath. But my hands clench the counter top and I stare at the floor, avoiding him at all costs.

"You let me panic about telling her we were dating for how long? And for what? To make sure I never found out that you didn't want me?"

"Were?" he asks simply, head tilted to the side when I finally look up.

"Do you have any idea how scared I've been to tell her? I thought she hated you!"

"Rachel-" he starts quietly, taking a step toward me, but I shake my head.

"No. And what about those three weeks in rehab? Thinking you used me, thinking you'd moved on without even knowing if you helped. And you didn't even tell her to knock it off, even after you asked me out!"

"Technically I haven't actually asked you out yet," he managers, going to Tony's way of deviating from the topic when he's uncomfortable.

"No, no!" I snap, standing straight. "I'm not only angry, Robert, I'm...God, both of you, going behind my back like that. I'm upset. I'm...betrayed."

He sighs, frustrated, and places himself in front of me, his hands on my shoulders. I want to shrug him off, but his chocolate eyes land on me and I'm only able to listen, still fighting with my emotions.

"I told her to tell you that because it would be easier for both of us. Remember? I told you I wanted you to have a better life, without me altering your decisions, without Charlie...a fresh start for you."

"And you couldn't have told me when I came back here begging for your forgiveness?!" I growl, tears stinging my eyes.

"She let you come down here, so I thought...I don't know, I just thought she told you," he says innocently, and I can tell he believes that. "I know you want to treat this like you're used to.." he starts delicately, rubbing a tear from my cheek with his index finger. "And I don't mean that in any bad way. Take a breath, okay? I'm not here to hurt you, I just want to love you."

I glance away, taking another breath, and sigh. "Are."

"What?" 

"We are dating," I correct myself, and he smiles.

"Good girl," he teases, kissing my forehead. "Now not to completely change the mood, but since when do you wear skirts?"

I laugh, drying the rest of my tears and look down. "I don't know, I just...I figured it looked nice, and..."

"Nice?" he asks, eyebrow raised. "Not nice, hot."

"Is it too short?"

"Uh uh," he shakes his head, looking me up and down. "Nope. No way. But I mean, feel free to take it off, if-"

"Robert!" I giggle.

"It's been two weeks, Rach," he groans playfully. "And I've barely had two second alone to kiss you since you came back."

I smirk, glancing at the stalls and noting they're empty. "We're alone now..."

"Yeah we are," he murmurs with enthusiasm, and he takes the hint and closes the distance between us.

My hands find their way into his hair on instinct as I smile against his kiss, happy to finally have this feeling again, no rush. His sweet taste, his scratchy beard...

"I missed you," he speaks between soft kisses.

"I missed you more."

"Did you tell her yet?" he asks next in a breathless whisper when we part slightly for air, and I mumble against him.

"Not yet..." I answer, then claim his mouth again, suddenly allowing desire to fill my body as I search out his tongue.

He hums into the kiss, stepping forward to press his body against mine, and we slowly get heated, longing for each other's touch. Eventually my hands wander down and grip the collar of his t shirt and hold him against me, biting his lip slightly. He grunts in response, hands now tight on my hips.

"She's gonna find out," he tells me, my lips still attached to his.

He slides his hand under my shirt and I welcome it, his breath heavy in my ear when he moves to my neck and presses me against the counter. Thankfully, the party's still going outside, and no one's come in yet. I didn't expect this, but after those two weeks in still secrecy, we're both going mad.

"Just tell her," he tries to persuade and lets his hands travel down to my ass. "I don't want you to go back to the hotel tonight..."

"Robert," I gasp when he suddenly lifts me and sits me on the edge, stepping forward to settle himself between my legs.

His hand grabs at my breast through my thin bra cup and I can feel him grind against my thigh, groaning as he captures my lips again in a messy battle of tongue. My hands pull at his hair and at some point, I don't remember when, I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

He grunts and breathes heavy against my neck when he breaks for air, his hands holding harder onto my hips as he lets them travel down and fiddle under my skirt.

"I need you," he growls. "Right now, here."

I inhale, his assertiveness making my insides twist and turn in anticipation. We've never been this...needy, this public.

"Anyone could walk in," I whisper, though my hands say otherwise when they start undoing his belt and tug at the zipper.

"We'll be quick," he promises, kissing back up my neck and to my jaw as my head tilts back to give him space.

My face feels hot and my clothes are a little too tight as I think of him taking me on counter like this, no one knowing about what we we're about to do in here, but it quickly drains when I hear knocking at the door.

"Rach?"

It's Devin, of course.

"Shit..." Downey curses, making me grin at how sexually frustrated he now is.

He detaches from me just a little, his hands now tamely slipping back out from under my skirt to sit back on my waist.

"Uh, just a sec!" I call back, but she doesn't listen.

"I just want to make sure you're okay," she continues as she pushes the door open. "You had quite a few and you've been gone a - holy shit," she breathes, cutting herself off when she lays eyes on us.

I'm frantically tugging my shirt back down and Robert's quickly going for his fly, securing his jeans again.

"Everything's good," I manage awkwardly after clearing my throat. "We're good, we're..."

"Seriously?!" she shouts, but it isn't surprised, it's angry, and then she's proceeding to step up and aggressively shove Robert away from me.

"Dev!" I shout, hopping down from the counter, but she's too busy yelling at him.

"You know she was drinking and you take advantage of her like this?! After all the shit she's gone through?!"

"Devin!" I hiss, pulling at her shoulder to get her to stop.

She lets him go but she's still staring fire at him and he's looking wildly between us with a look that just screams 'will you just tell her'.

"Rach, I love you and I know you want him to...this, but not while you're drunk. I'm not letting it happen!"

"Okay, A," I tell her, focused on her dark eyes. "Those shots haven't even hit yet."

She frowns, realizing that maybe I am coherent.

"B, this," I motion between Robert and I, "this has happened before, this is...yeah..."

She glances between the two of us as Robert folds his arms over his chest, smirking. "Wait, what?!"

I can't help but laugh at her, probably out of nerves, sighing and wandering back over to Downey, who protectively wraps his arm around my waist.

"No one off set really knows, so I just wanted to keep it that way, and..." I stammer awkwardly. "I was going to tell you, I just didn't want...well, this to happen. This was supposed to be a weekend for me and you to hang out, anyway."

She blinks, now calm, but completely confused.

"I'm sorry," I continue. "I know, I suck, but it's only been a few weeks and we just haven't had any alone time for the last few days... And I mean, you had me thinking you hated him, so I'm not the only one at fault here..."

"So you..." she stutters, trying to process. "You mean to tell me you've just been casually making out with Robert Downey Jr for the last two weeks?"

"Uh," I start, but Robert decides to step in, kindly correcting her.

"Not so casually," he informs her, "more like...exclusively."

I bite my lip, resting my hand on his chest lightly as I wait for her reaction.

"Holy shit," she finally speaks, hands wildly running through her hair. "Holy shit, so you're...no way. You're-"

"In a relationship," I confirm. I blink, feeling my cheeks flush in embarrassment. "Yeah. But you gotta keep this under wraps, okay? Please, Dev...just for a few more days..."

She nods fervently. "Yeah...yeah, right. God, you're dating a movie star, Rachel. Do you know how ridiculous this is?!"

Robert looks a little hurt, but I know she's just in disbelief.

"Like you've literally daydreamed about this for years," she continues.

Robert starts laughing at this. "Who hasn't?" he teases, earning a roll of the eyes from me.

"You're joking, aren't you?" she asks, taking a breath. "Like, this is a joke? You got me, ha."

I start to really laugh at this, shaking my head. "I swear on my life it's not," I tell her with a wide smile.

"I love her," he answers simply, making Devin's eyes shoot open wide.

"I'll fill you in," I promise, then turn to Downey, "but uh...maybe we should get back out there before they miss you."

His eyes look sad but the mood's definitely passed. I smile reassuringly at him, silently promising for later, and the sweetheart that he is simply smiles his dorky pressed lip smile back and leans down to give me a quick kiss.

"Oh, this is so weird," Devin mumbles, turning away and exiting the bathroom on her own.

I let out a huge sigh of relief, and Robert squeezes me into his side.

"See? Not bad at all."

"You were right..." I admit.

He smirks, but doesn't push it any further. Instead, he goes to open the door and holds out a hand, offering it to me.

"Shall we?"

I blush, happy to know we can do this now, and accept, and we walk back to the party hand in hand. I know no one here's going to care about it; they all well know, but Gwyneth gives us a smirk when we wander back toward the food table. I flash her a smile, and Robert squeeze my hand, leaning over to grab a piece of cheese. I copy him, then glance around the party, watching as people mingle, and then he's slipping he's slipping his arms around my waist, stealing a small kiss.

"God, I love being able to do that," he announces, and I glance over his shoulder at Devin, who's watching us from behind a glass of wine.

I smile up at him and kiss him again, but then nod toward Devin's table. "I think I should go hang out with her...can we prolong this a few more minutes?"

He chuckles lightly and nods. "Go, I'll catch up with you in a bit."

And then Gwyneth and Jon step in to say hello just as I say goodbye, and Devin notices their lack of surprise as I wander over and take the seat next to her.

"Wait, so they...they all knew?" she asks, a little hurt as she sips her drink.

I nod, watching Robert antagonize his two costars in the corner. They're laughing as he bounces around, looking like a child as he tells them some story or another.

"I just didn't want to tell you right before I left or over the phone, and this can't get out...to anyone," I tell her when I focus back on us. "I'm still trying to work my way up to that spotlight."

She swirls her wine in her glass, thinking. "You think everyone at home's gonna go nuts when they find out?"

I frown, realizing we definitely have more to talk about. "Dev, I don't think I am coming home," I admit. "I mean...I'll keep the place, but I've got this tour coming up, and I quit my job, and...I don't know where I'll stay, but..."

She looks depressed, but nods in understanding. "But you'll still call me?"

"Of course," I promise. "I actually...was hoping you'd maybe wanna...work for me, if this takes off after the tour?"

"Like...an assistant?" she muses, her lips tugging up.

"Or a manager," I throw back. "I know it's asking a lot, but even if you wanna try just from home before you decide if you like it..."

"I'd be honored to," she agrees, squealing and leaning over to give me a big hug. "I honestly thought you'd forgotten about me."

"Never!" I assure her. "I'm so sorry, Devin. Just after Charlie...I needed some space...needed to get away. So I know I've been distant, but..."

"I really had thought you two had stopped talking," she admits, speaking of Robert.

I sigh, stealing a sip from her glass. "It's a long story... I uh, we sorta kinda kissed, back when he took me to New York," I admit quietly.

"What?!" she nearly yells, leaning in with interest. "I hate you so much, you know. Why the hell have you been keeping this a secret?!"

I shrug with guilt and flash her an apologetic look. "I was drunk. He told me no, end of story."

"Okay, he has my respect," she agrees.

I huff out a chuckle, then decide to give the rest. "And then I visited in April, for his birthday...which you know."

"Yeah, and you guys fought and you came home early," she recalls.

I scratch my head awkwardly. "Not...exactly."

"Rach...what really happened?" she eggs with a hard stare, so I sigh.

"I uh...we...well, we sorta...had sex, and then-"

"I'm sorry, repeat that one more time?!" she shouts and several people look over at us, Robert included with a raised eyebrow.

I flash him an apologetic look to let him know I've got it handled and turn towards her. "Okay, if you want me to tell you, you need to chill out."

She takes a deep breath, nodding.

"Good," I sigh again. "I sort of freaked out when he wasn't there the next morning, but he just had to work and the hotel was a ways away, and... I came to grab my jacket I left here, and we kinda had it out. So I jumped on a plane back home, and when I got back, Charlie had figured it out about Robert, and..." I swallow nervously, knowing I've never admitted this to her. "That's where you guys come in..."

When I glance at Devin, she's got more concern than Robert on her face, her shoulders dropped as she listens. She doesn't interrupt.

"I don't know what he told you, but.. He stopped by to try and fix things and happened to stumble in at the right time.... Anyway...when I came back a few weeks go, after they took Charlie in... I just wanted to tell him, you know? I mean, I expected him to tell me to leave or have someone else or..."

I smile, biting my lip again as I remember it.

"And..."

"And he told me he missed me and he loves me," I answer shyly. "And uh...well, we sorta...took advantage of his trailer and just sorta decided to be a couple after that..."

"You love him?" she asks, a big smile creeping across her face.

I blush, nodding. "A lot. And it's not just cause he's...you know. He's just...Robert. My Robert. He's so much more than I thought he would be..."

I look back to him; he's back to expressively speaking with the group across the tent. I know my gaze softens when he glances at me and smiles, his hair flopping slightly out of it's spike from earlier. Devin must notice, because she's clearing her throat to get my attention again.

"Earth to Rachel," she teases.

"Sorry," I laugh lightly. "Things just sort of changed the more we talked. I mean, even after we went home after Malibu... All those messages and phone calls, I don't know. It just became normal. He's just a normal person, too..."

"A very gorgeous normal person," she sighs. "Listen, I'm extremely happy for you, but I'm also pretty jealous. But I'll forgive you for not telling me...on one condition!"

"What?" I giggle, swallowing the rest of her drink, which I nearly spit out when she answers.

"Tell me he has a nice ass," she nearly drools. "Cause that thing is fine to look at in his tight pants, let me tell you..."

"Devin!" I hiss jokingly, face brightening up red. "That's my boyfriend you're sizing up there, eyes off!"

"I mean, he is older...so how is he down..." she presses, motioning toward her lap. "There."

I groan, laying my head in my hands. "Devin, I'm not gonna talk about his...you know what!"

She laughs at my embarrassment, taming herself a little bit. "Fine, fine... But is he good? I mean, he's gotta be good the way you two were going to town on each other back there."

I peek out from behind my fingers, blushing madly under my hands as I nod.

She sits back in her chair, focusing on Downey across the tent. "Shit...I can't believe you're getting fucked by Robert Downey Jr."

"Devin!" I whine. "Please..."

"Like on a scale from one to Tony Stark, how is he?"

I finally release my hands from my face but don't answer that question specifically. "He's...respectful," I give her. "A little dominant, but in a good way. And very much so a giver..." I grin at the last part.

She hums, apparently thinking about it, and I kick her under the table to make sure she doesn't go too far. She glares at me, but in a friend kind of way.

"My boyfriend," I repeat.

"Okay, okay," she agrees, admitting defeat.

"So uh," I mumble awkwardly to sort of change the subject. "Is it cool if I stay here tonight, then?"

She smirks, knowing. "Just use protection," she sings.

I kick her again, making her jump and give a quiet "ow!", grinning when I accomplished my goal.

"Okay, but this is gonna bug me, so... Not to be rude, but for real, isn't he like a ton older than us?" she asks after a moment.

My smile fades. "Seventeen years... I don't notice it, but I know everyone else does. ...It's weird, isn't it?"

She shrugs. "If he wasn't famous I'd say yeah, but...I've gotten over your love for him a long time ago."

I watch him again, dancing awkwardly with one of the crew, who's got his arms wrapped around Robert from behind. His eyes are closed and he's swaying with them while Gwyneth and Jon laugh. I note the height difference, realizing Robert's even on his tip toes trying to match the guy's height.

"He's just the exact opposite of Charlie, Dev," I tell her while I watch them. "Look at him."

"Rach, I think everyone is..." she sighs, setting down her glass. "...Does he know like, everything? All of it?"

"Yeah," I breathe out in a whisper. "Yeah, he guessed, before that incident, and Charlie kind of went off on me when we were trying to leave for New York last time...."

"Wait, Downey was with you while-"

"It was just some yelling, but he knew already..." I keep my eyes on him for support, even if he has no idea.

"I'm so sorry I lied to you..." she sighs.

"It's okay," I smile back. "I mean...now you know, and I'm gonna let him tell everyone soon, and..."

"You know I have about a thousand questions for you now, right?"

I laugh and accept, knowing it was coming, but at least it isn't negative. "Yeah...how about tomorrow, though? Let's just enjoy the night..."

"Fine," she agrees. "Go get your boy toy."

"Come with me," I chuckle, standing and leading her toward the group.

And the best part of everything is being welcomed by an open arm and a kiss in the head when we join in, his hand draped over my shoulder as I lean into him. And everything feels okay. Like we fit in. Like this is normal, and I grab his hand in both of mine, smiling to myself as I listen to their conversation.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was...interesting to write, cause I know his mother, well...let's just pretend everything's okay in this, yes? (ALSO SHOUT OUT TO TEAM DOWNEY because they are the real OTP and today is their 13th wedding anniversary and I love them so much and hope they have the best day! <3)

"And then he just stopped us on the street and had Devin take a photo us together, and-"

"Uh huh...Rach, you know I don't mind talking, but-"

"-he was actually excited to meet me."

"-you said you wanted to have sex but your words say otherwise..."

Oh, what's going on again? Uh, after a long night of chit chat and telling Devin I'm not answering questions until tomorrow, we're back in Downey's trailer, and he's attacking my neck with kisses on the bed. He's leaning over me, my hands on his shoulder blades as I tell him about the day.

"I do," I insist, pulling him up by the cheeks to look him in the eye. "I just haven't gotten a second alone with you yet, and-"

"We can wait," he suggests, but I shake my head.

"No, no...I'm sorry," I laugh, then focus on pulling his mouth back to mine.

And then we get lost in some heated kisses, and eventually more... I fall asleep easily that night with his arms over my hip and his breath on the back of my neck.

But the next morning, I wake just long enough to kiss him goodbye and then go back to bed, too worn out to get up right away. He's got filming, but I'm not meeting Devin until lunch, so it works out well.

I'll just uh...I'll just skip the boring stuff, cause it's lot of repeat as he and I start to get comfortable with each other. Which is a good thing. Despite that little bump with him and Devin, I'm comfortable. Happy...

Which she picks up on right away during her pestering the afternoon on our day out in the city; another window shopping day, really...though we do stop to get lunch, and that's when I allow her to start her questions, so long as she doesn't get too loud.

"So how was your night?" she asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

I blush, definitely not planning on telling her for real. "I slept forever."

"Slept with him forever, or-"

"Just slept," I scold. "He got up early this morning for work."

"God, you say that like acting is such a normal career," she mumbles, taking a bite of the sandwich she ordered.

"It is...for him," I answer. "I mean, singing isn't either, but here we are..."

"I guess that's true... God, what's it like?"

"What?" I ask with a smirk as I sip my water. "Singing? You've seen my shows..."

"No, just...being in a relationship with...that."

"He has a name," I laugh, but I get how she hasn't quite processed it yet. "He's incredible... Even yesterday, when I confronted him about...well, what you told me..."

"Oh God, you didn't," she says with sadness, but I quickly shake my head and assure her everything's okay.

"We just talked. And he explained and helped me not overthink and then we were fine."

Devin gives me a genuine smile and I feel my own creep in.

"What?" I ask with a laugh and she presses her lips together.

"You're just happy. Rach, this is how normal people work, not...not how-"

"I know," I quickly cut her off, and then stab at my salad. "I was messed up, I wasn't thinking straight..."

"Until your crush swept you off your feet," she teases. "So that's why he went with you to LA..."

"For the concert?" I ask. "Yeah. He wanted to be the supportive boyfriend...weird, huh?"

She laughs and keeps eating, speaking with a mouthful, but it doesn't bother me; we could be related we're so close at this point...which is also why I got over yesterday so quickly. "No, freaking adorable. But I guess that's why...never mind."

"What?" I ask, urging her to say it anyway.

She sighs. "I guess that's why you didn't want to tell us who it was...at the doctor's after you ODed..."

"Right..." I agree carefully. "Yeah, I kinda uh...didn't need his name associated with any of that."

"So are you like...gonna tell people? Or..."

"I think so," I say on a breath. "He wants me to meet his parents first, I think on Sunday..."

And I'm extremely fucking nervous for that. I mean, his dad's famous too. But they have a history, and even though they're okay now, it's still just kinda...there.

"So you guys are like official official then..." she muses. "Shit..."

"Yeah, it's...real..."

"I know you didn't want to tell me yesterday,but...Rach what's he like?"

I laugh and roll my eyes, giving in. "Fine, fine, what do you want to know?"

"Everything. How's he kiss? What's he taste like? Does he snore? Oh, no, wait, is he a cuddler? I bet he has a huge house..."

"Uh..." I start, trying to keep track. "Depends on his mood, usually mint and cigarettes, honestly... A little, definitely, and they're huge...all three that I've seen."

"He has three houses?!" she gasps and I nod.

"Here, LA, and New York."

But then my phone buzzes and I check the notification, a new email from an unknown source. Well, an unknown person, but the source...

"Holy shit," I say, nearly spitting out the water I took a sip of.

"What?!" Devin asks, dropping the Robert questions.

"I just got invited to be a guest as a convention..." I breathe, heart racing. "They want contact info to go over details."

"Uh, drop my name, girl!" Devin begs, and I nod, typing a response. "Is it local?"

"At home, yeah. In the fall. They're going to pay me, Dev! To sign autographs!"

"Oh my God, it's actually happening!" she squeals, bouncing in her seat.

And that's all that's in my head until Saturday. We have a dinner with Robert and Jimmy that night, and I stay with Devin to go over the things I might need her to do if she winds up working for me...and cause it's her last night with me and I don't know when I'll see her again. I ask her to watch over Aero for me, if my mom can't, and promise to pick him up as soon as I figure out my living situation. Then Saturday I take her to the airport, and Robert says goodbye to his Marvel family, at least for right now.

And then it's our turn to fly, into New York with Jimmy, who's got plans until he rejoins us for Fallon. I'm restless on the flight, the news from the day before still fully in my brain, and the nerves acting up about meeting his family and being on TV. My life is absolutely crazy right now, and I don't know what to do to besides panic internally and pretend like it's not a big deal. I don't tell Robert about the convention yet...it's not confirmed, and it's not until later in the year...who knows if we'll even be together then.

He tries to prep me for his family on the flight in, telling me all about them...the things normal people don't know. But by the time we get to the house - his house - it's late, and the rest of the night is a blur until the dreaded moment when we make it to the restaurant we're meeting his parents at; somewhere where we won't be pestered.

I fiddle with my hands as the waitress walks us to a back room, feeling the public's eyes on me, but whatever. After this...we can tell whoever we want.

"It'll be okay," he assures me with a kiss into my hair as we walk up to the door. "Trust me, they don't bite."

I feign a smile and he opens the door, letting himself in.

"Hey, anyone home?" he calls, and there's a reply from somewhere distant.

He leads me to the back of the house, through the living space and toward an open glass door to what I'm assuming is the back yard...and I'm right.

"Bobby!" I hear a woman's voice say with happiness coating it, and I assume it's his mother who comes up to engulf him in a big hug. 

"Hey, ma," he grins, kissing her on the cheek. "You look great!"

She smiles at him, then pats his shirt down and turns to call back into the house through a different door. "Robert, your son is here!"

And out comes a larger man, with graying hair that's quite familiar to me; Robert Downey Sr.

"Bob," he comments, hugging his son as well. "Glad to have you stop by."

"Well, I thought since I was in town, and..."

"And since you've brought a friend?" his mother asks with a gentle raise of the eyebrow and a smile my way.

She seems nice. Kind. Small, probably where Robert gets his figure. 

"Yeah," Robert answers, his hand finding the small of my back to usher me up.

"Hi," I manage, holding out a hand in greeting, but she shakes her head.

"In this house we hug," she tells me, and then I'm quickly scooped up, giving Robert a surprised smile as he smirks back.

Whens he releases me, I shake his father's hand, then focus on introducing myself.

"It's so nice to meet you both, Mrs Downey, Mr Downey..." I stammer awkwardly. "I'm Rachel."

"It's nice to meet you as well, young lady," he dad answers, and that's funny to me, because we aren't really young...I mean, I'm young, so maybe...shit, he's not gonna like this, is he?

"So how long have you and my son been friends?" his mom asks, motioning toward the table outside to sit.

"Friends since last fall, remember the video from the wedding I showed you?" Robert answers for me, and she nods. 

"Oh, so you're wedding girl," his dad realizes. 

"That's me..." I mumble awkwardly.

"But uh," Robert continues, catching their attention again. "She's been my girlfriend for just about a month now."

And there's silence. A strong silence. I bite my lip, glancing at Robert, then staring at my hands in my lap, shaking like crazy. Of course, they hate me. I'm too young for him, too...nothing for him.

Until finally his mom speaks.

"I'm glad you found someone who makes you happy," she smiles kindly, and it's genuine. "I've actually heard quite a bit about you."

"Oh?" I ask, surprised.

"Yes, we have," his dad comments with a twitch of the lips, then, "Bob, want to help me out in the kitchen for a moment?"

I watch nervously as he gets up to follow his dad inside, then focus on his mom asking questions about my career that's just now budding, and I answer as best as I can until their voices raise inside and I try to ignore it.

"Are you trying to rob the cradle here?" his dad asks, obviously annoyed, and Robert's defensive.

"It has nothing to do with that, dad. God, can you just let me make one decision on my own?"

"You're acting like a teenager, thinking with your pants and not your head."

"There's more to it than that. Okay, she's...she's dealt with shit too, she's-"

"Christ, another addict?"

"Thanks, dad," Robert snaps. "Not like you didn't play a part in that or anything."

"I thought we were past this!" his dad yells back, and then his mother excuses herself, sensing my discomfort.

I sit and wait, tears threatening my eyes. I knew this wouldn't go well. And they're hushed now, so I can't even listen. I fiddle with my hands some more, until finally, Robert comes back, my heart picking up speed as he scratches the back of his head and sits back down next to me, pulling me in to kiss the top of my hair.

"Sorry..." he sighs into me. "I didn't mean to raise my voice."

"They hate me, don't they?" I whisper back, grabbing his hand on the table and leaning into his touch.

"No, no," he tries to assure me, then sighs. "You heard that, huh?"

"I tried not to..." I admit.

He rubs his hand up and down with the arm that's wrapped around me. "Don't worry, okay? Dad's always uptight about things like this. He'll get over it."

"Bobby, I don't want to upset them. If this-"

"Hey, none of that," he hushes. "Okay, I promise you, give him a few minutes. They'll love you once they get to know you."

"But-"

"No buts," he insists.

And despite me fearing we should end this before he loses his family, I know I might be over reacting. This could be worse. It's a lot to take in, and I have to give em that. I haven't had the nicest past, and given Robert's history...

But exactly what he says is going to happen happens, and when they come back, things seem to be somewhat okay.

"So, Rachel," his dad starts, taking a seat again. "Bob tells us you're a singer?"

I go on answering his questions, and Robert's right; by the end of the afternoon, I don't feel as threatened. He even gives me a hug on the way out, just as he did Robert. His mother's a sweetheart, and I know things with her will be okay. Maybe his dad will take some time, but they're all getting along now and it's accepted, and things are okay.

At least until the next day. I'm a panicked mess. It's Fallon day. We're taping in the evening, and it'll air that night. We meet Sting for lunch in the city, then head to the studio, and I'm pretty quiet the whole time. Robert's got his hand in mine most of the time we're not in public, trying to silently calm my nerves, and it's helping little bit. But this is my first big interview. The first huge deal. But then I think about that convention, and...this is what my life is going to be. It's exciting, but it's scary as hell. Either way, I have to get over that fear eventually.

I think a lot of it comes from not knowing what's going to happen. You know, feeling lost? I don't like going with the flow, too uncontrolled...though I know that's exactly how Robert is, though, which is weird that I'm not more panicked with his sudden decisions.

They have separate rooms for us, so I give Robert a quick kiss before he heads off to change into something nice, and then I'm into my own, putting on the dress I picked up with Devin earlier in the week. It's black on op and gray on bottom, cutting off just above the knee. I grabbed some black heels to go with it, and then makeup is working on me, making me presentable for TV. 

Shit, is this what it's like to be a celebrity?! People working on you like this, without you having to do it yourself?

My mind's swimming until there's a knock at the door, and then the man himself strolls in, giving me a cheerful hello as they finish up my hair and let me out of my chair.

"Hey, I'm Jimmy," he announces, as if I'm not aware already.

"I know," I smile, faking my composure.

He opens his arms in a hug that I accept, and I love his warm, peppy attitude.

"I swear, I watch your show like religiously," I tell him.

"What? No way!"

"Yeah, every night!" I grin, though not so much lately now that I've been so busy.

"Thank you, that's crazy! I'm not that good," he laughs, hands in his pockets.

"I beg to differ," I answer lightly.

And then he's motioning out to the hall. "Well what they don't show you...they'll bring you down backstage once we get Sting off and Robert on. Then we'll have you join him up there, if that's okay with you. Gives Sting time to get set up with the band."

I sigh with relief, relaxing. So I can be on with Robert. Thank God. Some sort of comfort.

"Yeah, yeah. Perfect."

"This is your first interview, right?" he asks, assuming, and I nod.

"Sorta, yeah..."

"I'll go easy on you," he laughs.

But I bite my lip and shrug. "You know...I'll have to get used to it eventually. And you're pretty easy to talk to, so...do your worst!"

"You might regret that," he teases, but it's friendly.

I like him. He's just as you see on TV, bubbly and happy and very personal. And he puts you in that same mood, kind of like Robert. It's contagious.

Once he goes on, I use my room to watch on the monitors, waiting nervously. Robert hasn't come back, but I didn't expect him to. He's probably lined up to take the main stage shortly after Sting. I wonder briefly how to act, knowing we have to put on a show to seem like we're just buddies, but we're used to that by now.

Fallon goes through the monologue, briefing everyone on the few news stories of the day, and then they cut and go to the next scenes, bringing Sting on the stage after a quick audience break and set up of the main seating and Jimmy's desk.

He talks about his album, then Jimmy gets to ask him about his tour, and that's when he announces me as his opener for the first leg. And there it is. My name, out there in the world. Things are definitely going to change now. This is national. This is a huge musician, introducing me to to the world.

"She's phenomenal," he tells Jimmy. "She took over that song with Robert. I'm hardly even on the track!"

I blush at his comments, listening as he explains how we met at the wedding, but that's old news. Then they play a clip of it while Sting leaves, and next thing I know, I'm being escorted down the hall by one of the staff members, who tells me where to stand and wait for my name to be announced.

I'm scared as hell. There's no where to watch them, so I can only listen, catching parts of it that echo backstage. Robert goes over his time on the Iron Man set, but doesn't give much away; he can't yet. And then he's asked about the wedding, as well.

"So you're buddies with Sting, we know that from Ally McBeal," Jimmy recaps for the viewers.

"Yes," Robert answers, and I imagine he's sitting with his body leaning to the side against the arm rest of the chair.

"And you have your own album, so you know what you're doing."

"Eh," he squeaks, "I just kinda do what comes to mind and hope it works out."

Fallon laughs at this, and I smirk, knowing that's exactly what I was thinking earlier in the day.

"So what made you sing at that wedding?" he asks next, and Robert answers easily.

"You see, I was really drunk, and..." He laughs, brushing it off. "No, uh, Sting just asked me to, and I'd been tossing the idea around of getting back into music."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Maybe. It's undecided."

"But that's a little different now, isn't it? With the track out, and..."

"Kind of," he answers. "But it's a little busy trying to keep up with Tony, so if I do I don't think it'll be for a while."

"Right. Well, we're gonna a quick break and then when we come back, we'll get to meet this up and coming star of yours," he teases, and immediately my nerves kick in.

There's a few moments of nothing by my heartbeat in my ears, and I try to steady my breathing. Please don't have a panic attack right now...please no.

And then time flies and they're waving me on.

"Please welcome, miss Rachel Thomas!" Jimmy announces, and there's applauding from the audience.

And I'm desperately trying not to trip in my heels as I walk through the curtain they open. I'm a nervous wreck, but I try to remind myself it's just like the spotlight's on stage. And stage worked out fine. Still, I toy with the bracelet I added last minute; Robert's gift, knowing I might need it to focus.

When I walk out I try to smile, and give Jimmy another hug. Robert stands, adjusting his jacket, to give me a friendly hug and nothing more, and then offers the seat between he and Jimmy. I take it, smiling and thanking him, and God, does he look good...

They dressed him up in dress pants and a dark red shirt with a jacket, and his hair's evenly spiked to perfection. No cap or glasses like earlier, even though that doesn't bother me in the slightest; he looks good in everything. It's gonna take everything in me to act like we're just friends...that's for sure.

"This is so exciting to have you here!" Jimmy celebrates, and I smile, biting my lower lip as I clasp my hands in my lap and cross my ankles.

"I'm excited to be here!" I answer swiftly.

Okay, this isn't so bad. Just talk. Just focus on him, not on the TV aspect...

"You told me backstage, actually, that this is the first interview you've done..."

"It is," I nod.

"So hopefully it won't be the last," he jokes, and I, along with the audience, laugh in return.

"So we know about you and the wedding already from these two," he starts, looking at his notes. "So I'm just gonna jump into it, but tell us again, the tour starts..."

"Saturday," I confirm with a smile. "I'm...well, I'm not gonna lie, I'm kinda nervous."

"But she shouldn't be," Robert interjects from next to me. "I keep telling her that."

I shoot him a look when Jimmy laughs in response.

"Well, obviously, what's to be nervous about?" he asks. "It's just a...big stage, and...thirty thousand people, and..."

He begins to talk dramatic and slow, trying to make it into a joke. Robert takes it as one, sitting up in a fit of laughter while I'm stuck grinning between the two, blushing at how humorous they find it. I wring my hands out in my lap, trying to play off the nerves, until Fallon continues.

"So," he motions between us, "you two keep in touch, then, right?"

I open my mouth to answer and decide instead of using this moment to announce it, to give a one word answer instead. "Yeah."

Downey chimes in, saving me. "She's actually still in my phone as 'wedding girl'," he teases, that smirk reappearing on his face.

"But that's how you met, you're a fan, right? I mean, cause it's a little odd, having an actor show up to sing unless you're a fan..."

"I was," I jod, laughing at how embarrassing our story really is.

"Was?! Like, not anymore, now that you know him?" Jimmy laughs, leaning forward over the desk and I'm blushing madly trying to correct myself.

"No, I am, I am!" I insist.

"I mean," he continues, "So what do you think of him, now that you know fake RDJ and like..."

"Real RDJ?" Robert chimes in and he's got the most ridiculously amused look on his face.

"Yeah," Fallon confirms in another fit of laughter at his own choice of words.

"Yeah," Robert smiles, hands on his knees as he crosses his legs. "I exist. Most of the time."

We both laugh with the audience until that settles down and Jimmy's back to pressing on me. I'm new meat, it makes sense.

"So the real RDJ..."

"I think he's weird," I state with a straight face and Robert looks at me, confused and fake shocked.

"Oh," Downey states as Jimmy talks over him.

"That's it?!"

"Okay..." Robert mumbles, staring back at his hands. "Thank you."

The guests laugh at his fake depressed response, as do I before trying to save myself.

"Well, wait, I-" I start, amused by his childish reaction, but Fallon interrupts.

"Because...you know I have to touch on the rumors..." Jimmy shoots back, focus on me.

I feel my skin heat up again and try to play off a nervous laugh. Well, I did tell him not to hold back...

"Ah, the boyfriend..." Robert mumbles, looking at the floor before re positioning himself in his seat next to me.

Jimmy's smiling ear to ear, leaning forward on his desk. "Cause you've posted quite a few photos hinting at a significant other..." he comments toward me.

I swallow and smile in embarrassment, biting my lower lip and pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Yeah...something like that."

"And there's been a lot of guesses from the internet, so you know I have to ask..."

I take a deep breath and try to play dumb. "Ask what?"

Jimmy raises his eyebrows, still grinning. "The two of you... Rachel, Robert?"

"Yeah?" Downey chimes in from beside me at his name, his focus on some fans in the crowd and not the discussion, which earns a confused look from me and a laugh from Fallon.

"As you can see," I joke, feeling my stomach do turns, "he doesn't have the attention span for a relationship."

Jimmy repositions himself in his seat, looking a little let down. "So that's a no?"

I open my mouth to talk but can't find words so I look over to Robert for help. I don't want to lie. But if I say yes...if he says yes...everything changes. Yet when he meets my eyes, there's a glimmer to them, reminding me even if I deny, he'll be okay. He's fine with taking our time. He's patient and supportive, and...he doesn't deserve to keep hiding like this because I'm scared.

"Wait!" Jimmy laughs again, nearly startling me as he hits the desk with his hand. "You're totally lying!"

"I'm..." I start, feeling my cheeks heat up.

But Jimmy keeps going, grinning widely. "Ahh, this is so exciting!"

I press my lips together to suppress a smile, then decide this is it. I'm jumping in head first.

"Okay, okay!" I shout, giddy as all hell and those nerves from earlier completely gone. "You caught us. We're...yes. Yes, we're dating!"

And again, as my savior, I feel Downey's hand rest on my knee, squeezing lightly for comfort. I blush, then place mine on top of his. I look at him with thanks, then at Jimmy with a sheepish grin until he responds.

"Oh...oh, wow!" he laughs. "When Robert asked if he could get you on the show...I just thought I'd mess with you, but this is really real?!"

"I mean, it's pretty new," I answer truthfully.

"So it's official? Like, official official?"

I laugh and nod while Robert agrees, nodding, and then before I can answer, he's being typical unpredictable Downey, pushing himself onto a knee on the couch and leaning over. He grabs my face with both hands and plants a big kiss on my lips, and I can't help but squeak in surprise. The audience woos, of course, and Jimmy is cackling.

"Okay, I think we get it!" he laughs, and I catch my breath when Robert lets me go and sits back down, adjusting his suit before taking my hand in his between us.

"What was that?!" I laugh, stunned, and he shrugs.

"I'm stuck with her," he jokes toward Fallon, earning a slight smack from me on his knee. "Sorry, did I say 'stuck'? I meant hopelessly in love," he corrects.

The audience 'aw's, including Jimmy, while I roll my eyes and hold my open smile.

"How did this happen?!" Jimmy asks, stunned.

"Well," Robert starts, looking serious. "You see, when a man loves a woman..."

I roll my eyes, jumping in to stop him from going any further. "We just...I don't know. Lots of long distance talking and weekend visits... I guess we just realized we have a lot in common..."

"And you just thought, 'oh, national TV seems like a good place to announce this...'?" Fallon giggles, bewildered, and Robert looks flabbergasted.

"This was all her, I knew nothing about this," he tells everyone.

"Wow..." Jimmy grins. "So...wow..."

"Yeah."

"And you were okay witting here all night pretending to barely know each other?!"

"We're used to it," I tell him.

"That had to have bothered you," Jimmy says to Robert. "I know you..."

"I..." he starts, hesitant, and sticks out his tongue slightly while he takes in my face that begs him to say the wrong thing...playfully, of course. "I can't answer that question."

I laugh at his answer, squeezing his hand. "It's okay. No, I know it was tough...but uh...surprise!"

"This is...wow, okay," Fallon says with a shake of his head. "I have so many questions, but we're running out of time so... You two are gonna sing with Sting when we come back!"

And they cut to commercial break for the audience, and I turn to Jimmy, eyebrow raised.

"You said to do my worst!" he defends, and I laugh.

"I know, I know..."

"I didn't think you'd hit me with a bombshell like that, though."

"She's definitely something," Robert teases.

But that's all we have time for before we're asked to move toward the stage. And I'm not nervous. I'm not afraid. I'm just eager to sing with them, prove my worth on TV.

It goes swiftly, pretty much the same as the wedding. Robert and I are so in sync with it at this point it's coming easily. And when we finish, Jimmy's stepping back on with a copy of the tour poster, announcing it one more time to the viewers. But all I'm focused on is how Robert pulls me into his side, kissing me gently on the lips before smiling down at me, that twinkle in his eye sharing his happiness over my announcement without words. We're officially a couple, officially dating...officially able to act like we want to without worrying someone might see, and I'm a little nervous about how this is going to go over, but I wouldn't change my decision for anything.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a bunch of people requested a one shot for Robert and Susan's anniversary today so I guess now I'm taking one shot requests? Idk. It's on here as a single and on Wattpad as a collection though.

"Oh my God, that was so good!"

It's hard not to be in a good mood around Fallon, that's for sure. As soon as they wrap, he turns to me with his arms out in celebration. 

"They weren't kidding, you're amazing!"

"Thanks," I grin, blushing, and next thing I know, Robert's squeezing my hand before detaching and walking backstage with Sting, his hand on his back as they chat.

"I'm totally gonna come out to a show. Are you playing up here?"

"I think there's one in Ohio!" I tell him. "But most are west coast."

"I'll make it out."

"Okay," I agree.

He walks me back toward our rooms and thanks me for coming and I can tell we're gonna be friends. Actually, he follows me on Twitter as soon as we make it back to the room, whipping out his phone and asking for my tag. I really gotta focus on that thing...

And then I'm left alone in my room to change into something more comfortable. Robert's got us in a hotel nearby just for the night so we don't have to drive all the way back to the house, and I plan on watching this episode as it airs, waiting for the notifications to pour in.

I pull out my earrings and remove the necklace, watching myself in the mirror. This is crazy...this is what my life's going to be like now, whether or not I make it. Just being with Robert is enough for that. Am I good enough to handle this? This is all going to change, immediately...

But I don't have time to think about it too much before I'm interrupted.

"There she is," I hear in that too familiar voice from somewhere behind me. "That was...unexpected."

"Yeah..." I agree quietly. "Just felt like the right time."

I finish tossing my things in my bag and pick it up, grabbing my light jacket in the process. When I turn, I see him leaning against the door frame, his head tilted against it with a lopsided smirk across his face. He tosses on his glasses again...the square ones he knows I like with the black frames and clear lenses, and he's got a zip up hoodie and some track pants on. I smile slightly, but not enough to show I'm okay, and he senses it.

"You killed it tonight, you know," he tells me, standing up straight and crossing his arms over his chest.

"I hope so," I answer, trying to widen my smile.

He doesn't buy it. "But..."

I sigh and he takes that as a sign to step into the dressing room, resting his hands on my shoulders when he reaches me.

"Is it something I did?" he asks. "I know that kiss was kinda sudden, but-"

I snap my head up and shake it without missing a beat, almost laughing at how absurd that assumption was. "No! No, not at all. It's just..."

He raises and eyebrow and tilts his head to encourage me to go on, so I give in, avoiding his gaze and focusing on the floor instead.

"A year ago...I was sitting at my desk at this awful job I hated, just trying to get through the day. I'd go home and deal with Charlie, feed the animals, and go to bed. Maybe toss a movie in there somewhere."

He smirks again when I say this, because he knows all too well it's probably one that he starred in. He doesn't comment.

"You..." I say with a slight chuckle, "you were just a fantasy," I admit. "Hell, if you would've said any of this would've happened in however long it's been since-"

"About seven months."

I bring my eyes back to his and blink. "You really do keep count?"

"Of course."

I sigh and shake my head...not as sad this time. "Things have just changed...a lot. It's kind of intimidating. I mean, so many people know my name now and before...no one could even get it right. And all of the press, and the fans online, and...you..."

I see his eyes soften as a genuine smile warms his face and he brushes my hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear. I blush and advert my eyes again.

"I am pretty awesome..." he jokes and I push him lightly, making him chuckle. "Come on, we've talked about this."

"I know, I know... But it doesn't make it any less weird...for me...sometimes," I stammer. "Okay, you're like, Robert, but then you're Robert and no matter what I do there's always going to be this part of me that was totally just daydreaming about this happening..."

"Hey," he murmurs, tilting my chin up with his index finger. "You, if anyone, knows me better than the rest of the world. You've seen me on and off screen. You," he finishes, bopping my nose with his finger, "have nothing to worry about."

I exhale and smile, studying his eyes behind those dark frames. Then, I reach for them and pull them off his face, making him squeeze his eyes shut for a moment and it's adorable.

"As long as you know how surreal this will always feel," I answer, grinning.

He smirks and drops his hands to my waist, resting on my hips. "So," he blinks, focusing blindly on the mirror behind me momentarily before coming back to me. "Is it weird for you if I tell you I love you again?"

"Mmmm...a little," I say with fake debate. "Maybe try it again."

He grins and leans in for a kiss as my hands travel up to his chest, still clutching his glasses. "I love you."

I feel my lips twitch up against his as he softly kisses me. It's short, simple, and sweet, and I finally relax when he pulls away and covers my hands with his against his torso, running his thumb over the skin.

"It's still there...but a little better," I tease, then bite my lower lip. "So what now?"

He rolls his shoulders. "Well...hotel tonight, then a few days alone... Then out to LA for you and back to work for me..."

I frown, staring at his hands on mine, and he notices.

"Babe...it'll be fine. You know I'd come along if I could, but we still have stuff for promotions to do and advertisements and interviews... Okay, just six weeks and then we'll be able to spend more time together. I'll be back in LA for the premiere, and we have the next few days..."

I nod. He's right. This whole fame thing is new to me, but he's used to it. If anyone knows how to handle long distance, it's him. Besides...we managed to stay friends that whole time I was dealing with Charlie at home.

"And tonight?" I ask. "You know there's a crowd waiting for you."

"Tonight...we give 'em a show," he decides. "Now that it's out there."

"It is..." I agree. "Everyone's gonna know now."

"You sure you're okay with this?"

I smile, nodding. "Yeah...yeah, I can't keep asking you to sneak around."

"You could've briefed me," he laughs, and I feel guilty.

"I know, I'm sorry. I didn't really plan on that..."

"Well...I guess there's no turning back now." Then, he pries his glasses from my hand. "I'm gonna need these to see."

The smile lights up my face again as I allow him to put the frames back on his face. I shrug the bag further up my shoulder as he takes my hand and leads me into the hall and toward the back entrance, Jimmy and a few other security details surrounding us.

"You should sign for them," I tell him when we approach the door.

"What?"

I squeeze his hand for reassurance. "I've been there. Waiting for my favorite people just for a chance to see them. Waiting for you."

He blinks, remembering the story I told him when he first visited my apartment and saw the signed poster with all but his name on it.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Yeah. Hey, Jimmy, got a pen?"

He's handed the usual big black marker and I see him smile, finally understanding what things are like from my point of view. When the door opens, we step out and he detaches, heading toward the group of maybe thirty hanging out in the alley behind a barricade. I stand back with Jimmy, clasping my hands together in front of me as I watch, a hint of pride hiding in my chest.

"You know, he never really does this," I hear his security say from my right.

"Things change," I answer simply, watching him sign the first few items. Then, I have an idea. "Hey! Roberto!" I call, grabbing his attention while I hold up my phone. "Group photo for Instagram?"

He smirks and turns, posing in front of the barricade and I snap a photo, grinning at his silly stance as he turns back to the fans jumping to get their item into his hands. When he nearly reaches the end, he turns back to me motioning for me to join him. I do so hesitantly.

"I think this one's for you, too," he shouts over their calls, handing me the pen and pointing out a group of girls with Sting's album cover already signed by Downey.

I blink, freezing for a second, before slowly nodding and signing my name; this is a first. I barely hear them when they thank me profusely, telling me how much they love the song, so I nod and smile back, then hand the pen back to Robert, who pockets it.

"Ready to go?" he asks.

When I agree, I feel his warm touch around my waist as he wraps his arm around me and leads me toward the car, kissing my head as we walk. The news would have a fanfare tomorrow with photos of this...but it's already been let out of the box on Fallon, so it doesn't matter anymore. Embrace it, I decide, and lean into him as we round the vehicle to board.

I'm quiet for most of the ride to the hotel; it's a short trip, anyway. Robert talks with Jimmy, but his free hand is wrapped around my shoulder, my head on his, and he's stroking my hair without realizing it. It's cute, and it's making my heart warm. There's no urgency now, not when we can be open about our relationship now.

I do send a text Devin, though, telling her to watch the episode...as if she wasn't going to already. I don't tell her exactly what...but I do mention an important announcement of sorts. That should honestly give it away on its own.

We're not shy about PDA at the hotel, either. There's a few cameras already waiting outside, but Robert grabs my hand anyway and pushes through them with me behind him until we're safely inside and in the elevator up.

"Sooo," he muses, hand still in mine. "Room service and TV?"

I nod; I do really want to watch the episode air. 

So Jimmy orders and joins us in our room, the three of us sitting on the couches around the table and TV in the living area. But to my surprise, when the food shows up, there's a bucket of two champagne bottles on ice and not two, but three glasses included.

"To celebrate," Robert grins, and I stare at the bottles.

"You don't drink," I remind him, and he chuckles and turns the one so the label is facing me.

"Non alcoholic. Relax."

"Right..."

I feel stupid, like I should've known. But he doesn't let me dwell on it. Instead, we chat while we eat, waiting for the show to start. There's a hockey game on - Penguins - so Jimmy and I focus on that for a while.

"They're two wins away from going to the playoffs," he comments. "We going to the cup?"

"Maybe," I answer. "If Fleury keeps up his game."

"Listen, you're insane. Your boy Letang needs to watch his passes or we won't have enough defense to make it."

And then there's a shot on goal by the opposing team and Letang winds up blocking it, diving down on the ice. 

"I'm sorry, what were you saying about my man?!" I basically shout, sitting up on my knees in excitement. 

"Uh, your man is right here," Robert pouts from my other side and I give him my best puppy dog eyes.

"Sorry..." I laugh. "It's almost over anyway. Why don't we all go to a game if they make it? Make an appearance, what do you think, babe?"

"Won't you be on tour?" he asks, and I shrug. 

"I mean, not every single night. We can work something out."

"Hey, Jim," Robert speaks up. "Speaking of appearances, when's that award thing...." He waves his hand in the air while he thinks of which one it is.

"TCA's?"

"Yeah, that's what, June?"

"July," Jimmy corrects, and Robert smiles.

"Good. We're going to that. You, too," he tells me, poking my side. "Should be right after the tour closes for you."

"You're nominated?" I ask, suddenly really proud and slightly upset I didn't know that already.

"Yup, the Avengers got a couple nods. Including yours truly as favorite male action actor."

"Well, at least they got the male part right..." I tease, and he looks shocked, so I continue before he can quip back. "By the way...I sort of have some news, too..."

"Yeah?" Robert asks, and I nod, grinning. 

Until Jimmy chimes in. "Oh God, you're not pregnant, are you?"

And my face instantly drops and Robert nearly chokes on his bite of food as he grabs for a napkin to clear his throat. He glances between me and Jimmy, taking in my wide eyes and gaping mouth, until he finds words.

"Dude, it's only been a month!"

"Yeah..." I agree, though my mind's elsewhere. "No babies... Nooooo babies."

"I appreciate the thought," Downey adds toward his friend, "but uh definitely not yet..."

"Just joking!" Jimmy assures us. "Damn, the two of you should've seen your faces..."

I swallow nervously. No, I'm not...you know. Obviously. But I can't help but remember what the doctor at the hospital had mentioned to me before I went to rehab. Not to be dramatic, but can I even safely get pregnant?

"Everything okay?" Robert asks, interrupting my over thinking, and I nod, blinking.

"Yeah, yeah, good. Sorry, just thinking."

"So what's the big news?" he asks, glancing at the TV; Fallon's up next.

"Well," I start, trying to clear my mind. "This isn't actually set in stone yet. I actually just got the info a couple days ago. But...well, I kind of go asked to be a guest at a convention in Pittsburgh in the fall," I announce.

And Robert rests his hand on my knee, grinning. "Hon, that's great!"

"Congrats!" Jimmy offers, and I bite my lip, back to feeling excited.

"Devin's gonna handle the details, but-"

"Yeah?" Robert asks with raised eyebrows and I nod.

"Yeah, she's uh..gonna do some work for me, I think. You know, it this takes off..."

There's some more talk about Robert's schedule, filling me in on what he's going to be doing while I'm away; some promotional shots in Atlanta and some interviews for the blue ray discs for the film, then some table reads in New York with Jon for his film coming up in the fall.

And then before I know it, the opening monologue to Fallon is on, and Robert's grabbing for the glasses and the chilled bottles.

"A toast, to your new career?" he offers, and I grin, popping the bottle.

I yelp and dunk my head into my chest when the cork is blown, and he laughs, mimicking me with the non alcoholic bottle - really just sparkling water at that. And then he and Jimmy sip on theirs while I drink mine, enjoying the small buzz I get after a second glass...we've learned I'm a lightweight by now.

I don't want to get drunk, so I stop just as Robert's segment starts, and then I'm content enough to lean into his side with my back with my feet up on the couch, his arm draped over my shoulder as he watches himself be interviewed.

"You're so good at these," I say quietly.

"I am, thank you," he answers simply and I laugh, rolling my eyes. "You seem surprised, haven't you watched enough of them online?"

I blush, leaning my head back to look at him as I play with his fingers in my hand. "Every night before bed."

"I'd believe that, Tony," he teases, and I smirk, knowing I've won.

"And now there's two of him..." Jimmy mutters. "Just what I need."

I can't help but laugh, knowing he's right; we're too similar...this is going to get bad the more comfortable we get with each other, especially now that we don't need to have an 'off' switch.

Speaking of...oh God, here I come. And of course, I can tell I'm blushing the entire time I'm talking. But I didn't stutter. I'll give myself that.

"Who's that pretty girl?" Robert asks, and I kiss his hand in response.

And before long, it drops. The news. And Robert's leaning over to kiss me, his ass to the camera like the idiot that he is, though all he does is laugh at himself. 

And...there goes my phone, buzzing with notifications. Probably from fans, mostly. I don't know if my mom's watching or not. Or Devin. Shit, Devin...

I sigh, grabbing it off the table and checking the messages. I'll answer hers. The rest of the notifications can wait until tomorrow or I may not sleep.

D: NO WAY YOU JUST KISSED ON NATIONAL TV RACHELLLL

holy shit

R: I know, i know! idk what got into me, I just had to say it...

D: you're famous now. that's it.

R: I know, my phone's going nuts...

D: and you're still answering me, ily :')

R: Duh. I'll get the rest tomorrow, but...ily too!

Shortly after that, Jimmy's saying goodnight and going next door. He's back to LA in the morning, so Robert walks him out to the hall and they exchange some words while I get ready for bed. I silence my phone and set it on the side table while Robert takes his turn in the bathroom, then go start cleaning up.

But I'm quickly surprised by his body suddenly thrown at me, wearing absolutely nothing, and then he's carrying me to the bed with his arms wrapped around my torso.

"Robert!" I laugh out loud, dropping the napkins back on the table. "I'm trying to clean!"

"Clean in the morning," he tells me, laying me down on the bed with his body hovering over me. "We're still celebrating."

"Celebrating what?!" I gasp in good humor when he attaches his lips to my neck.

"Us. Officially being a couple," he mumbles, then captures my lips with his own and I muffle out a response, but quickly succumb to him.

And I mean...you've heard enough about our sex life, right? He's caring, as always. But firm. And he's definitely not gentle with his movements, not letting up until my hands are clenching the sheets on either side of us.

And eventually, I'm lying on my side facing him, his hand running through my hair as he leans on his arm, smiling delicately at me. I'm far too relaxed, happy to share this little bit of silence with him. Just his warm eyes, with way too much emotion gleaming in the dark, and the light sheets draped over my body for warmth.

"I'm gonna have to watch, now, huh?" he chuckles quietly. "Now the whole world knows how talented and beautiful you are."

"You?!" I laugh, never letting my eyes leave his. "You do realize you're Robert Downey Jr, right? Like every girl on the planet is after you."

"Not every girl," he denies, then, "okay, maybe..."

And I, like usual, push against his chest with another eye roll. Man, I'm getting good at those.

"All those younger guys are gonna be going after you," he teases.

"Well, it's a good thing I have a thing for older guys, then, isn't it?" I smirk, and he buries his head in the pillow with a smile, peeking out at me.

"Right, daddy issues, I forgot," he tosses back, and I gasp audibly, tossing a pillow at his head. "Hey, watch the merchandise!"

I laugh and re position my head on the remaining pillow, admiring his defined features.

"So you told me about your dad..." he presses, and for a second I panic, until he moves on. "But you're an only child right?"

"Yeah," I confirm, thankful he just wants to know more about my family. "Just my mom and I now."

"Right..."

"You have a sister, don't you?" I ask, knowing the answer.

He nods, bringing his head back up, and rests his hand on my hip, tracing small circles on it under the sheets. "Allyson. She's the older one."

"Awe, baby Downey, how cute," I grin, and he laughs once before growing serious again.

"Hey, you know what Jimmy said was just a joke, right? I just didn't want you to think he's expecting that, or anyone's expecting that, or that we have any plans, or..."

"I know," I reassure.

"Okay, cause you just got quiet, and..."

I wiggle my lips, thinking of an answer. I don't really want to tell him about what happened that day, but he's going to need to know eventually, right? But no, it's only been a month. So I settle for a general question instead.

"You want kids someday, huh?" 

He blinks, his eyes firm on me. "I'm a romantic. I think I'd like to have a family, yeah. But if that's not what life has planned for me, then that's okay too. I mean, nothing's really gone as planned so far, so..."

I fake a smile and close my eyes, thinking about everything the past few days. "I'm so proud of you, you know."

"For what?" He sounds confused.

"Overcoming everything. Surviving," I tell him sincerely. "I used to read all the articles, you know? How they talk about your childhood and your trips to rehab, and.. I don't know. I just want you to know someone is proud of you for getting through all of that and still winding up being an incredible inspiration."

"I love you," I hear him whisper after a moment, but sleep is calling, so I smile back blindly and have just enough energy to reply.

"Love you more."


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just...I don't know what this is. I tried piecing some random excerpts I wrote forever ago together, ha.

I blink my eyes open, sighing softly at the light that filters through the hotel room window. The feeling of a heart beating in sync with mine is met with the light snoring coming from behind me, and when I try to move, arms tighten around my stomach, holding me close to his body. I grin, biting my lip, and reach for my phone instead, intent on keeping this position as Robert's soft breathing hits the back of my neck.

The screen lights up, displaying the many, many notifications I have pouring in. I really gotta hand this stuff over to Devin.

Six missed calls, two of which come from my mother. Another three from Devin, and one from a friend I haven't talked to in a few months. A countless amount of text messages come in, and then, of course, social media. I open the texts from Devin, which are all in gibberish about the reactions online, followed by a link to an Entertainment Weekly article. I open it, my smile broadening when I see the photos from the episode of Fallon last night, and a few from the fans outside, including one of Robert kissing my head as his arm was wrapped around my back.

I save it to my phone, then open Instagram, ignoring the comments on the other photos that I haven't checked, then test out a few filters on it.

"That's cute," I hear in a groggy voice as familiar lips warm my cheek and the weight in the bed shifts.

I was so caught up in the photos that I didn't hear his light snoring stop.

"Did I wake you?" I whisper.

"Nope, just good timing," he says lazily into my ear. "We look good together, don't we?"

I can't help but squirm in his arms, letting out a small laugh. Then, I settle on the filter and type the caption before posting it.

Rachel_Thomas I love you <3

"I love you, too," he answers verbally, kissing my cheek again, but this time trailing them up to my lips along my jaw as he twists me in bed to face him.

I can't help but laugh and drop my phone on the pillow, wrapping my arms around his bare torso and meeting his lips with my own. His strong arms still hold me in place as he groans and pulls away, blinking his sleepy eyes open at me. 

"Don't leave," he begs after a moment, which kills me inside.

"I have to," I frown, running my hand through his dark hair. "But we still have a few days, and it's just a small goodbye. I'm still all yours."

He grumbles something again and pulls me back to him to place another kiss on me, his hands running up my back and giving me chills.

"Maybe we should just stay in bed today," he says against my lips, obviously smiling.

I mimic him, but break away and close my eyes in annoyance when my phone starts buzzing from my other side. I blindly reach for it and answer without thinking, knowing it's probably one of the two girls who had left all of these missed calls in the first place.

"This is Rachel," I say as politely as possible, trying not to sound like I just woke up.

"Are you still in bed?"

I sigh. "Yes, mother," I answer to let Robert know who's on the other line.

"You know it's like eleven, right?"

"I had a long night..." I complain, stifling a laugh as his goatee and beard graze my shoulder and he starts placing small kisses up it and to my neck.

"So start explaining," she demands, but lightly.

"What do you want to know?" I ask while shooting Robert a warning look.

"Can we start with why you never told me you were announcing it?" she questions, sounding upset. "I mean, I know you two are together and all, but...you just decide to let the whole world know you're fucking him now too?!"

I can tell she's joking and excited about it, but that makes me turn beat red and it doesn't help that she's so loud, because Robert's starting to snicker loud enough for her to probably hear.

"Mom!" I shout. "It's been seven months since we met and...and I'm not discussing this."

"Then get out of bed and discuss it with me when you're not next to a naked Tony Stark."

He bursts out laughing at this, removing his lips from my neck and allowing me to roll onto my back in embarrassment.

"I'm gonna go..." I mumble.

"Have fun!" I hear her say shortly before I hit the end call button.

I whine and place my hands over my face. "I'm so sorry..."

"Did I mention I like your mom? When do I get to see her again?" he asks innocently.

I narrow my eyes and think for a minute, sighing when I realize I'm due for a trip back into Pennsylvania soon, anyway when everything settles.

"I'll figure something out..." I tell him finally. "I mean, I'm supposed to be at that convention in the fall if it all works out, anyway...so you can see her then."

He grins. "Sounds perfect. I should be able to sneak away from filming for a few days."

"On one condition," I decide, a sneaky smile gracing my lips.

He can't help but laugh, not able to take me seriously. "And what would that be?"

I bite my lip and hold out a dramatic pause. "Steal one of the suits and make an appearance."

"You're serious?!" he asks, suddenly taken aback. "Rach, that'd cause so much commotion, and-"

"No one will know it's you. They have a helmet that can fit that big head of yours, don't they?" I tease, tapping him on his forehead. "Come on. I'll uh...hey, maybe I can borrow Gwyneth's wig and we'll go as Pepper and Tony!"

He stares at me, blinking a few times. "You're insane."

"I know," I agree. "But it would be fun. And think of the kids who would love it."

He sighs, knowing I'm right. "I'll see what I can do..." he finally mutters. "But you owe me," he adds, pulling me back to him and rolling me on top, sending my phone clunking to the floor.

His lips hover dangerously close to mine, his breath exhaling against my face as he runs his hands back down my back, grabbing my ass when he stops. I suck in a sharp breath and he notices, flashing his eyes down to my lips and back up.

"What do I owe you, Mr Stark?" I tease.

"Come here," he growls, and then he's tangling his tongue with mine on impact, skipping the innocent kisses. 

He lets one hand wander back up to the back of my head, grabbing at my hair as his other continues to squeeze. Then, without warning, he shifts me up and teases me with his tip, passing back and forth between my legs. I whine into his kiss, eventually breaking away for air.

"Someone's excited," I breathe and his eyes burn into mine.

"Always," he confirms. "Can you uh...can you reach my bag?"

I glance across the room and frown, then look back at him. "I mean...can you give me a second?"

"We could...we could pull out," he suggests, but I immediately shake my head.

"We just had a mini panic attack over the slightest mention of something happening," I remind him. "Let's not chance that."

He rubs my back as he thinks, then gives in. "Okay, kill the mood..."

I roll my eyes and jump out of bed to grab his wallet from his bag, retrieving protection. "Two seconds is not gonna kill your mood and you know it."

"Then get back here," he answers seductively, grabbing me and pulling me back into bed with him when I return.

His lips are back to work on mine as he slips it on, then he repositions his body, making sure he lines up with me. He pushes in, a little slow at first, but then he's going deeper as he holds his arms around me in a tight embrace.

When he starts thrusting, I bite his lower lip by accident, moaning at his touch. He grunts when I pull away and bury my head in the pillow by his ear as he moves with me, slow, but steady. It isn't anything like any of the last times, it's deliate and caring and...

"Rach," he whispers into my ear after a few short breaths.

"Yeah," I pant, feeling him go deeper as he gets closer.

"Shit...God, you feel amazing..." he groans.

I try to laugh but only make out a moan when he hits into me harder, his arms gripping my waist tighter until I can't move...and I like it.

"I love you, babe," he adds, his words coming in broken pieces.

I don't reply, but lift my head and kiss him again, begging him silently to let go. He picks up his pace, moaning into my mouth until I feel a tightness in my lower body start to form and I gasp.

"I'm gonna..." he whines as I tighten around him and fall into his chest in a blissful heap.

He lifts me off of him with a groan that nearly makes me come again. But after a second, I get out of bed and retrieve some tissues for the condom for him from the bathroom, picking my phone up on the way back.

He laughs as he cleans up and sits up in bed, finally fully awake.

"Good morning, by the way," he says with a lopsided grin. "So uh...what do you wanna do today?"

Weird. We're so used to having work for at least one of us, or being apart...having alone time is so...different.

"Well..." I huff, thinking. "I'm gonna start with take a shower..."

He pushes himself out of bed, walking around in the nude like it's no problem, but I can't help but let my eyes wander as he grabs for new clothes.

"We could conserve water?" he offers, and I raise an eyebrow.

"As much as I'd love to... I think a few minutes to myself might be good," I suggest.

To be honest, it's been a very overwhelming few days. First with Devin and then Fallon and last night with Jimmy...I haven't had any time to think in silence and I just need to process it all. Plus...that whole baby thing still has me a little shaken up. Like, it shouldn't matter, you know? It's weird enough even dating him. But as a person, I feel like I owe him honestly at least. But it does matter to me, because I don't want to be the bitch that makes him fall and then lays a huge crushing fact like that on him.

Guess half of that's already happened though.

"Okay," Robert agrees after a moment. "Yeah, yeah...no problem. I'll just, uh, go bother Jim for a while and hop in after you," he decides with his hand gesturing toward the bathroom.

I frown, knowing we're going to be apart for six weeks...so I should probably just get over my issues and enjoy this. Hell, what am I even doing? I have a fucking movie star naked in my bedroom and I'm asking to be alone...

"All right, all right," I smirk, clearing my head and nodding toward the bathroom as I wander in. "Just...no funny stuff!"

"Got it," he states, following. "I'll be super serious."

And it doesn't sound at all serious, but that's Robert for you.

"You?" I ask with amusement and he grins as I start the water.

"You're right, who am I kidding?" Then he steps into the water with me and raises his hands in truce. "Hands to myself, promise."

And he's good, for the most part, but after I'm done rinsing out my hair, I catch is eye from behind those gorgeous brown locks that are plastered down flat over his eyes and he grins like a child. It's sexy as hell and I just laugh, biting my lip after.

"What?" he asks, pushing it back over his head and slicking it back.

"Nothing..." I say with the smile still present, then step up and run my hands up his wet body, letting them rest on his shoulders as I stand on my toes. "Has anyone told you how hot you are?"

"Mmmm occasionally," he answer slyly with a smirk. "I thought you said no hands."

"Hands, no," I agree. "Lips...yes."

And I lean up to kiss him under the water, smiling against him as I lean into his toned chest. He's not shy about wrapping his arms around me, either, but it doesn't go much further than a long kiss.

Then he's stepping out and grabbing a towel and when he wraps it around his waist I give him a small smile, still feeling that tug for some time by myself.

"I'll be out in a few minutes," I tell him, and he smiles.

"No rush. I'll be next door, okay?"

I nod, and I take the next few minutes to breathe, trying to calm myself and think of how to rationally explain to him the situation I have going on so it's out there and I can stop panicking. Eventually I get out and towel off, studying myself in the mirror before doing my makeup. Why does he like me? No idea. I don't see that whole gorgeous aspect he claims is there, but I never have, either. All I see is that scar under my eye that no one else knows is there because I cover it up, or the bruises that I don't think will ever go away on my wrists even though they've faded a long time ago. Guess Charlie will always have that part of me.

I shake my head once I'm done and changed, getting rid of the negative thoughts, and then I hear him coming back in with Jimmy's voice floating from somewhere behind him.

"Hey Rach?"

"Yeah?" I ask, pushing myself off the counter and going out to toss the rest of my things back in my bag.

"So we'll drop Jimmy off at the airport, then I was thinking we can head back to the house for lunch? I have a call with Kevin for some Iron Man stuff at two, but that's it until Friday...sound okay?"

I smile in agreement, then laugh when he hands me a pair of sunglasses.

"Oh, uh, here..."

I smirk, taking them and inspecting the black frames. "You know these never work, right? We still know it's you."

"Keeps me focused," he shrugs. "So they don't get to me. You should keep a pair on you just in case."

"Got one better..." I quickly decide, sticking out my tongue as I dig through my bag.

Eventually I pull out a hate, black, with the Stark Industries logo on the front, and toss it on m head with a big grin that Jimmy laughs at, as well.

"I like that better," Robert states on a breath, sounding a lot like Tony.

"Just cause it has your alter ego's name on it!" I tease.

He nods, tossing on his own glasses and grabbing his bag. "Cause it's gonna remind everyone you're Team Stark."

"Are you surprised?" I ask as we walk to the elevator. "I'm team RDJ, too, but hush, cause that's a secret so don't tell!"

"Not much of a secret anymore, sweetheart," he jokes, and he's right.

When we make it downstairs, Jimmy checks us out and we head toward the car, Robert's hand in mine. He walks past a couple more cameras from the night before and then we're safely behind tinted windows.

"They'll let up once they know we're not staying in the city anymore," he states.

But I don't care. Let them see. We already announced it.

And that's how I entertain myself for the ride to the airport and then back home..finally catching up on everything. It isn't awkward, for the first time in a while, either. It's nice. I'm able to play on my phone, catching up with Devin as she texts me a bombarding amount of messages, both upset with me and happy for me for not answering earlier. I try to keep up, but decide maybe to let her rant and just call her later.

I bite my lip, opening social media for the first time since everything happened. I still have that silly personal Facebook page that I haven't touched in a while, besides using it to host my professional page as an admin, and I wonder what that must be like right now... All of the people I haven't seen since college are probably wigging out, so I open it and for fun, check out my notifications. I grin; it's loaded with comments and friend requests...maybe I should go undercover with a fake name, I decide. Regardless, for shits and giggles, I go to my settings and change the relationship status from 'single' to 'in a relationship', and say nothing else about the matter.

Next is Instagram, where I posted that photo, and I know it's going to be crazy. However, I skip the notifications and go right to the photo, looking at the most popular comments.

User1: oh my god no he's off the market?! fml

User2: they are so cute!!! <3

User3: I knew it!! #RaRo #Towney

"Oh my God, we have a ship name..." I mumble and he almost doubles over with laughter.

"Yeah, I saw. Two actually."

I groan and sink down into the seat.

"What, it's cute!" he assures me. "They love us together. That's a good thing."

I nod in silent agreement, heading back to read more comments and pressing a like on one or two. Then, I snicker when I see his, tossing a smirk at Robert from across the car.

RobertDowneyJr: love you more

I like the comment, along with the thousands of others, then notice the pulsing glow on his icon.

"Are you live right now?" I ask, looking up from the phone.

He grins over at me behind his dorky red glasses. "I'm bored, why not?"

"Gee thanks," I tease, but smile back.

My heart flutters when he grabs my hand in the center seat, before greeting his viewers. 

"Hey, internet," he beams. "I'm just headed out so I thought, why don't we chat? Let's see your questions. I know you have em. Toss em at me!"

I roll my eyes, texting Devin back as he starts shouting out to people commenting and answering questions about Iron Man and Tony Stark.

"What's your favorite part of the new movie?" he repeats, reading the next question. "Me."

I stare at him with amusement and he grins back, earning a flood of more comments.

"Where am I going today?" he reads. "Uh, we're leaving the city for lunch, then back home, I think. I leave for the more work on Iron Man in a couple days."

I sigh, and he notices, but doesn't say anything. We're both depressed about that.

"Who am I with?" he continues, reading off more questions.

I see him grin and he shifts in his seat, holding out his phone so he includes me in the shot. I smile and shake my head, flashing a wave at the screen.

"I...am with this stunning woman," he says cheerfully, not holding any of his excitement in. "You may have heard a thing or two about her but if you haven't...this is my lovely girlfriend, Rachel."

"Mmm, lovely?" I ask, leaning forward to place a kiss on his cheek.

"Beautiful, gorgeous, perfect..." he mumbles, turning to he can plant a soft kiss on my lips, smiling the whole time.

A flood of heart emojis swarm his phone at the action, making the both of us laugh. I go back to my phone, squeezing his hand subconsciously.

Eventually he ends the live and prepositions himself in his seat so he's laying his head on my lap, interrupting the scrolling I'm doing on my phone. His feet are up against his window, crossed, and I raise an eyebrow.

"Can I help you?"

"Did it hurt?" he asks, and I roll my eyebrows with fake disgust. "When you-"

"Oh, God, Robert!" I laugh. "Stop!"

He grins and pulls my phone from my hands, reading the headlines out loud.

"Hey!" I gasp, but he holds it away from me so I give up quickly.

"Sting announced the opening of his world tour, starting with the western half of the country this Saturday, alongside fellow singers on the album Robert Downey Jr (48) and Rachel Thomas (30). The couple also announced their official relationship on the show with an enthusiastic kiss from Downey." He laughs. "As expected, I don't know why that part shocked anyone..."

"It shocked me," I admit, and he smirks, moving on to the next one.

"Too cute!" he reads in a high school girl's voice. "RaRo is an official thing, and we ship it!"

I laugh at the way he's talking and he keeps going.

"Is Downey moving from drugs to sex?" He frowns. "No, I'm not. I never left sex in the first place."

"Robert!" I snap, and he finally hands my phone back. 

"Don't worry about the negative comments. They don't know us, so they shouldn't control our happiness."

"I know," I say with a fake smile and he crosses his arms over his stomach with no plans to move.

So I go back to reading my comments, my free hand finding the top of his head. I let my fingers run through his hair on repeat without noticing, but he seems to like it, so neither of us mention it.

There's traffic, so we get back to the Hampton's late, and then he's rushing to set up for his conference call, so he points me to the fridge and grabs himself a protein shake, telling me to take whatever I want. SO, I nibble on some carrots, trying not to let my head wander back to the negative comments online. All discussing age. He's not using me for that, I'm certain. But it stings when everyone else thinks so little of him.

Eventually I find myself wandering the house, looking at things I didn't notice the last time I was here. There's a couple Marvel related pieces in random places and a few paintings hung in his bedroom. I know he mentioned painting before, so I wonder if he's done these ones...

The ceiling's tilted and it reminds me of my bedroom at home when I still lived with my mom; it's cozy..comforting. The large windows and skylight help, too. I haven't seen this place in summer yet...only winter, so it's nice to see how the sun lights up the room.

Honestly, I still wanna see inside that insane closet of his, so I decide to snoop and take a look. He's got an entire side dedicated to shirts and pants, and a few obscure costumes that I imagine he's used for Halloween or something of the sort. The floor is home to a ton of dress shoes...but the better part? The entire other wall is shelves made up of hats and glasses and shoes, and a few drawers of watches. God, what I'd give to have this kind of money...

When I'm done staring in awe at the collection, I wander back out and note the family portraits on the bookshelf. I pick one up, inspecting it; he's with his dad and a young kid, maybe a nephew? Cousin? I'll have to ask. But he's happy, smiling as the kid tugs on his hand, and you know where my mind is again..

This is the first time it's hit me this hard. Maybe it's all the talk about it the day before, maybe it's the amount of stuff that's suddenly changing in my life, giving me things I never thought I'd have.... Either way, I'm starting to panic. In a way, Charlie and my past will never leave me. And after Robert brought up his idea of a future the other day, I've done nothing but worry about if that's going to happen. And seeing him so happy around kids, and not even for the cameras...

One part of me knows I'm being dramatic as I fidget with my hands, playing with my bag as I nervously study the photo. I'm just sitting...sitting on the bed, at his house, our first day alone with, well, almost no work, and I can't just be happy. The other part is telling me to run, let him live his life with someone his age, like the articles said...

And we all know I'm not good with panic. After a few moments trying to focus, my heart starts to pound and I feel that chill creep up my skin until finally, I decide maybe it's best just to go. Just leave call an Uber, don't say goodbye, make it easy. But that isn't okay...I owe him some sort of apology, some sort of reason...as much as I hate the confrontation, he needs to know. He probably wouldn't think twice until I'm too far gone; it'd break his heart, but...

I finally make up my mind when I realize I've started crying silently, then dry my tears and stand to set the photo back down before turning toward the door. And that's when I run straight into him; straight into his chest, and he steadies me with his strong hands on my shoulders as I avoid his gaze.

"Whoa, hey," he greets cheerfully. "I thought maybe you were napping, you're so quiet in here."

"Sorry," I whisper, but he goes on. 

"I just finished my call, you up to hang out?"

I shove my bag further up my shoulder, pulling away from him. "I can't."

I can sense his worry set in, and I hear it in his voice, too, but my eyes are locked on the floor, away from his until they dry.

"What, busy tonight?" he tries to joke. "Hot date?"

I shake my head. "No, I just can't...I can't do this, we can't stay together, Robert," I blurt out suddenly, tensing when he stands tall and runs a hand through his hair.

"What are you talking about?" he asks, trying to stay calm. "I mean...I know I'm weird, is it the painting in the bathroom? Cause we can change it if you want."

I take a deep breath, finally meeting his brown eyes with my blurry tears. "You told me you wanted a future...a family, kids... You deserve someone who can make you happy and give you that and that might not be me."

"Rachel," he starts, confused. "Honey, no offense, but it's only been a month... Where is this coming from?"

"You told me last night," I remind him. "After we...you know...you told me you wanted a family, and I just...I don't know if I can do that. And I've been panicking myself since then, because I love you, but I just..."

At this point, I've got tears on my cheeks, unable to contain them. His brow is pressed together and he looks concerned....devastated. Yet, all he comes up with is...

"So, what, you were just gonna leave? Walk out and not tell me you weren't coming back? The day after we fucking go public with our relationship?"

"I'm sorry..." I whisper.

My heart is sinking into my stomach as I wipe some of the water from my eyes. He doesn't budge, trying to process; here I go again, over thinking and ruining things.

"Don't do this," he begs suddenly. "Talk to me, tell me what's wrong."

"I want to know I can give you that someday. But you're not getting any younger, and I mean that in the kindest way possible, and I'm not going to let you give something up for someone unimportant like me, and-"

"Does this have to do with why you've been so, I dunno, I guess distant...today?" he asks softly, trying to calm me down instead of argue.

"Bobby, stop," I beg when he reaches out to touch my shoulder. "I'm...I'm ending this...before it disappoints you."

"Baby, don't say that," he tries, but I shake him off again. "What in the hell happened while I was working?"

"Robert, I'm done. We're over, I don't want to be with you anymore."

I close my eyes tightly, fighting off that sting in my lungs and the burn in my throat. It's my own fault for building that addiction.

"Not until you at least give me a reason," he decides, standing between me and the door. "A genuine reason, not some, 'I can't do this' bullshit!"

"You'll just want me to leave!" I almost yell back, getting frustrated and overwhelmed. 

"Try me."

I turn my eyes back down, sighing deeply before giving in.

"Fine. Fine!" I groan. "You really want me to feel worse?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The Vicodin..."

"What...what happened?" he asks quietly. "Did you take one again?"

"No, I-"

"Rachel, tell me the truth," he says with more of a level voice than ever, his hands moving to my shoulders so his dark eyes can look straight in mine.

"No," I tell him calmly, knowing he won't listen to me if I keep this random crying up. "I am telling you the truth, I'm clean, I... When they took me to rehab, they did a bunch of tests...and she told me the the addiction could mess with me if I'm pregnant, and I know it's gone now but..."

"Who told you that?" he asks gently.

"The nurse..."

 

I wait for him to say something...anything, but he doesn't. It's quiet for almost too long, and then I see him shift and he takes me in his arms, holding me tightly and carefully.

"Okay, first thing's first...calm down..." he whispers, stroking my hair as he holds me close.

"I don't know how long that shit lasts..." I whisper back. "I might not be able to have kids, and it didn't really matter much to me, but you don't deserve that, and you look so happy in your photos, and..." 

"Rachel," he soothes, still fussing with my hair. "You listen to me, okay? First of all, thank you for telling me this. Second, you are strong, you are determined, and you are clean. I know nothing I could ever say would fix it for you, I can't even fix things for myself sometimes..."

"But..." I say softly, "you deserve to have that option. I can't promise it."

He sighs, releasing me and guiding me to the bed.

"Come sit with me, please," he begs, pulling me by my hands until I nod and sit on the edge.

I wipe my eyes on my sleeve and then he takes my hands in his, holding them tightly while he studies my face.

"If you think for one second that I'm going to leave you because that might not be in our future, you're crazy," he teases, but focuses all the same. "Rachel, I promise you...whether it's with me or not, you're going to have the most beautiful babies in the world, okay? You're going to carry them and give birth to them and they're going to be happy and healthy. Okay? No problems, and everything will be perfectly okay."

He tilts his head down to inspect me when I nod sadly, staring at his hands on mine.

"You hear me?" he asks again.

I nod again, hands squeezing his as I fight off the panic attack.

"Good. Now please...please stop trying to break up with me," he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood, which does earn a smirk from me. "If you want me gone that bad, just tell me and I'll go, but these random explosions..."

"I know. I'm sorry, I over think and-," I start, but he finishes for me.

"And hold your problems in and think you don't need help from anyone," he chuckles. "I kinda got that. Like I get that you're expecting me to react a certain way."

"Yeah..." I smirk, knowing he's hit the nail on the head.

"Rach," he goads, trying to pull me from my head. I know he's doing it on purpose, so I let him. "Look at me."

I do so, focusing on his dark eyes behind his black frames. My chest is rising and falling, keeping pace as I focus my breathing.

"Do you love me?" he asks gently, and I nod, still silent. He smirks, taking one hand away to brush the hair from my eyes. "Good, cause guess what? I love you, too. And I'm not Charlie, I'm not gonna let you leave. You're still gonna be my girlfriend, and I'm still gonna want you to hang out on set with me...and I'm kinda hungry though, so what do you think about getting dinner?"

I can't help but giggle finally when his brain goes directly to his stomach, as it always does. He loosens up, relieved, and pulls me in for another hug, kissing my cheek lightly.

"Are we eating in, or...?" I guess, but he shakes his head.

"No," he decides. "I'm taking you out. Do you have anything nice in that bag of yours?"

I nod. "Yeah, a couple dresses..."

"Good," he smiles, and I feel butterflies in my stomach when he adds, "It's a date."

"Like...?"

"Yup. First official date."

"Why...why aren't you mad at me?"

He chuckles lightly, running his hand through my hair. "Why would I be? We all have our pasts. Now how about we take a few minutes here to get ready and I'll get the car ready?"


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So I might not be able to update every day like I've been trying to coming up...sorry guys! I'm desperately trying to finish up my IW Iron Man suit for Halloween and it's gonna be a time crunch, so I need to focus on that....but I'll still try to post here or a one shot on the other stories or something a few days a week! Hope that's okay.

"Wow...what'd you bring that for?" he stats when I wander into the kitchen maybe a half an our later.

I packed a black dress, formal, I guess, but it's short,just above the knee, so it's not too fancy, right? Not stage appropriate, but... It's cut out in the back and has a tight waist with a flowy skirt, and I found some nice heels in the bottom of my suitcase. The sleeves are short, with a wide neck line. I'm pretty sure I didn't shop for this, though...seems like something Devin would've slyly picked out behind my back.

"I dunno..." I blush, picking it up at my sides and letting it flap back down. "Just in case, I guess..."

"I case a fan decides to take you on a date behind my back when you're gone?"

"No, dork," I laugh. "Is it too much though?"

"No," he states easily. "It's perfect. But now I just look like a schmuck here, so give me a second to change..."

I bite my lip, taking a seat at his kitchen island while he goes to his room to change, and while I wait, I let Devin know what's happened today.

R: talk tomorrow? something i need to tell you...everything's okay though. bobby's taking me to dinner tonight

D: bobby?! jesus you two are adorable.

I snicker at the response, knowing she hasn't really seen us together...no one really has.

"What's so funny?" I hear next, and I turn my head up, laying my eyes on Robert strolling back into the room, his hands tucked in a dark blur suit jacket over a gray t shirt and dark wash jeans. He has his matching gray shoes, but no glasses, and he's since gelled his hair neatly.

"Nothing, just Devin...did you just dress up because of what I'm wearing?" I ask, feeling bad. "Cause I can change...I didn't know what you had planned, so-"

"Nope," he answers flatly, then holds out a hand for me to take to stand. "I hadn't really decided yet, so I'll take you somewhere more upscale. How about up the shore to Scarpetta?"

"I honestly have no idea what that is, but sure."

"Italian," he chuckles, walking me to his garage. "It's a little uh...well, let's just say it's your taste of fame and fortune."

"Oh no, Robert," I frown. "Nothing expensive!"

He smirks as he walks me around the side of a convertible with the top down; it's older, probably a classic. Black exterior with a vintage look...I like it. But I'm shocked he wants to take it out.

"We're taking this?!" I gasp as he opens my door for me, and before I can sit, his hands are on my shoulders.

"If you haven't noticed by now," he tells me, "I'm a millionaire."

"That's not cocky," rolls off my tongue sarcastically, and he laughs.

"Rach, stop. I told you I'm taking you out, so stop worrying and questioning everything, and just go with it. This is your life now; we have money, we can use it."

"We?" I ask with a raised eyebrow as I sink down into the seat and he closes the door before skipping around to the driver's side.

"Yup," he says, popping the p and putting the key in the engine. "I'm your boyfriend, so what's mine is yours."

"Uh, I think you have that confused with marriage-" I start to argue, but he keeps going.

"Plus, don't forget you're making a shit ton of money just with that song alone...I'd say you can afford this even if I did let you pay."

My lip twitches but I give in, buckling my seat belt, and he's quickly off on the short ride through town and to the restaurant. I enjoy the darkening sky, realizing it's already nearing six, and the fresh air from the ocean. It's different than California, but still welcomed.

When we park, he tells me to wait so he can get my door, but I make sure he knows I'm not helpless and I'm not going to be so needy as to have him cater to me everywhere we go, and let myself out. Still, he's at my side to take my hand in his as he walk in.

I honestly wish I was as graceful and cool as he is walking into the restaurant, but I'll never be that suave. He's had years of practice...and he's just naturally charismatic like that. And we're led to our table, which he must have reserved a while ago, looking out over the ocean water as the sun sets. And everything is perfect.

"So most of the people here know me by now, so if there's any cameras, it'll be a minimum," he tells me, peeking over his menu. "Any idea what you want?"

"What's good here?" I ask.

I'm kinda stuck; everything's really pricey. I could go with just a small salad - that's...still over priced but not as overpriced as the pastas. But I know he's already ordered me wine, and that's gotta be just as much, if not more...

"I'm a sucker for chicken carbonara," he tells me, setting down his menu, so I assume that's what he's getting.

"Yeah, that sounds amazing," I sigh. "But these salads look good too...so I think I'll go with one of them," I answer, opting for the cheaper of the two.

But that doesn't matter; when the waitress takes our orders he orders me the carbonara anyway, with a side house salad.

"What are you doing?" I ask under my breath when she leaves, and he smirks.

"I know that game, Thomas. You saw the prices and panicked. So I compromised with something that got you both," he states.

"You're a sneaky little shit," I tease, taking a sip of my drink.

"Little?!" 

"Yup," I grin. "But...fun sized," I offer instead.

The dinner is eaten with good humor...and I'm actually enjoying myself quite more than I thought I'd be. I figured I'd be too worried about the paparazzi, or what other people would be whispering about us...but honestly? I don't really care somehow. I think I've just come to terms with it; everyone knows now, it's public knowledge...we can be a couple, and we don't have to hide. It gives me more courage than I thought it would.

The nicer thing? There's no weird awkward tension of that first date, either. It really is our first date date...first time doing anything remotely coupley. But we already know the basics, so this is already comfortable.

Eventually, after talk about what he has to do for Marvel while I'm going to be away, he shifts onto me.

"You'll have to let me know where you guys stay," he tells me, taking a drink. "I bet I've been to some of those places."

"Shit..." I mumble. "I didn't even think of that..."

"Don't worry," he smirks again. "I had my guys work on it. I don't have the details but your costs are covered."

"Robert!" I groan. "Stop being so nice damnit!"

"That's...odd. I've never had that request before," he jokes.

"I mean it," I sigh. "I need to know I can do this on my own."

"Hey, hotels have nothing to do with your stage presence," he tells me. "That's all you."

And I know he's right so I agree. "I just wish I had like...my own band, or something. You know? It's gonna be hard to keep attention from that many people with just me in front of a couple spare guys."

"Well, when you get signed, you'll have that!"

"You mean if," I correct.

"Nah," he disagrees. "When."

When he pays and leaves a hefty tip, he walks me back out with a hand on the small of my back, leading us down the stairs toward the water instead of the parking lot.

"So it's only eight," he says, checking his watch. "And there's a craft show going on this week on the main strip...we could walk through it if you want? Unless you'd rather just go back home..."

"No, no," I say, enjoying this public time out. "We can walk!"

He laces his hand with mine again, and then we're wandering down the sidewalk near the ocean, still in nice shoes so we're avoiding the sand itself. Ahead there's a ton of tents with lights illuminating the walkway between the set ups, vendors displaying their various crafts and such. I loved going to these things at home, so this is calming now.

"Do you remember that night you call me for the first time?" he asks suddenly, squeezing my hand."

"When?" I ask, "After...?"

I trail off, guessing he means Charlie, and he nods. 

"Yeah."

"Yeah..." I answer, not wanting to think about that. "Why?"

"You told me you were good at drawing, right? You could totally sell some stuff at these things."

"I doubt it'll make as much money as singing," I laugh, and he tosses me a look with his tongue out for effect.

"No, but could be fun! ...you told me you're good at meditating and sex, too, but I don't think they'd allow those kinds of things here."

I glance at a table of scarves as we wander by. "Probably not."

"I just thought I'd let you know, though...you know you're right about all three of those things," he grins, and I turn to him with a look of disbelief...in a fun way.

"Robert!" I snap playfully, and he laughs.

"What?!"

"That's definitely not first date material," I tease.

"It's a compliment!" he argues.

I can't help but smile at his defensive mode. "Okay, Tony," I compare, because God, are they alike sometimes. "I'm just gonna point out every time you're similar, so you believe me."

"I'll have to start calling you Pepper, then," he counters, but I'm not gonna let him win this round.

"Hmm.." I debate. "Roleplay? That one of your kinks too?"

A normal person would hush me for saying this so openly in public, but not Robert.

"That's not first date material either, now is it?" he replies, and I fake pout.

"I think I'd play her pretty well..." I saw sadly, and he immediately loosens up.

"You?" he asks, not buying it. "Acting?"

"Don't sound so confident!" I snap, and he laughs as I let go of his hand and start walking backwards, facing him as I talk. 

"Okay, go for it, Miss Potts," he offers with raised eyebrows and an outstretched hand, signaling he's waiting. 

"Oh, I don't think..." I start, going for shy Pepper. "No, that's not a good idea."

"Why?" he asks, not following.

"I mean...I'm wearing this dress, and we're walking, and you're...well, you're you, and we all know what everyone's expecting, and that's fine, but..but..."

"Copying her lines isn't the same thing," he laughs, genuine, and I give up, not knowing where to go from there.

But I laugh all the same. "Fine, fine. I bow down to you, oh great acting lord!"

And then he's eyeing up a hat in one of the tents, the vendor staring wide eyed at him, and he borrows it and puts it on his head. 

"That's right," he offers in an English accent. "Bow to your superior."

"What, is that supposed to be your crown?" I ask, giggling, and he smirks.

"Not shiny enough, I know." 

He puts it back with a smile to the vendor and then we turn around, heading back. I grab onto his arm with both hands, leaning into him as we walk. As simple and dorky as it is, this is the kind of comfort I never had with Charlie, and I love it.

As we walk back toward the car, we're quiet. I'm observing the clouds in the barely lit sky as the sun goes over the horizon, admiring their shape. It's funny, isn't it? We never see the same cloud twice. They merge, they separate, they form out of nothing but pressure... Kinda as elusive as a snowflake being the same as another.

"You ever think about how much shit is out there?" I ask suddenly, and he raises an eyebrow, looking down at me as we wander to the car in the lot.

"Should I bother asking?" he muses, knowing I'll tell him anyway.

"There's just like, all of this insane stuff going on, and we're just walking here, looking straight ahead. At the ocean, the air, the sky, whatever... But I mean, those clouds up there are like enclosing us, you know? We're just one tiny spot on the planet, and those clouds are so far away."

"That's cause the world is big, my dear," he answers, amused. "Has the wine gotten to you?"

"No," I answer with a laugh. "I'm just saying like...it's crazy to think we never stop and look at them. And even though they're so far away, they feel so close."

"Well, they're still relatively closer than the sun," he offers, sounding confused, and I nod.

"Or the stars. There's so many stars out there, so far away, and they're all unreachable."

And then we make it back to the lot, and he slows to open my door.

"Not all of em are unreachable, " he comments, and my lips tug up at how cocky that sounded.

"That was the most egotistical attempt at flirting I have ever heard," I answer with a grin, and he's opening my door again to let me back into the car.

The drive home is just as quiet, until I decide maybe I should apologize for earlier, even though he doesn't want to hear it. So I turn down the radio and take his hand on his lap in mine, resting it there on his thigh.

"I'm sorry, by the way," I say in almost a whisper through the sound of the wind over our heads.

"Rach-" he protests, but I cut him off.

"No, I should start being more confident...I should start telling you things instead of assuming I know how they'll work out," I admit. "I just hope you don't think any less of me for that..."

"Not at all," he promises, squeezing my hand gently. "But if anything like that is bothering you again...let's just talk first, okay? We can work through things together."

I nod, smiling over at him, and he reflects it.

"Good, now did you have a good time at least?" he asks, changing the subject as we pull back up his driveway and into the garage.

"Yeah," I confirm. "It was nice, not feeling panicked about people seeing us."

"Told ya it'd be easier," he answers, and then opens my door to help me out and lead my inside.

He kicks off his shoes as we make it inside, my mimicking him; the heels are nice and all, but I'm not really used to them and my feet are already killing me.

"How about another drink?" he asks, heading to the kitchen, and I nod, calling after him in agreement.

"Just a water is fine, thanks!"

And then I take the opportunity to look around his living space, noting the other paintings he's hung here and the modern decor. There's a couple bookshelves and poster displays near the fireplace, and a big coffee table in between the couch and the television. And in the corner there's a fancy, black piano, open as if recently played. So I stroll over, remembering the keyboard I used to toy with at my mom's when I was in high school.

I sit down, dress folded under me, admiring the ivory keys. I haven't played a piano in a while but I feel confident, and it would be good for some shows. So I do what comes to mind; one of Robert's songs, actually.

The notes don't come as easily as I thought they would, so I make a few missed attempts at starting it, then decide to pick it up mid song, mocking the key strokes with my fingers until my memory plays it back easily. 

"Do you remember seven Septembers of sacred rendezvous?" I sing softly, not wanting him to hear. "Spreading...only for you... Do you remember, tipping the vendor, how we used to groove? Spreading...only for you...."

I close my eyes, getting lost in my playing as I try not to miss any notes; it's been a while.

"But my fear and my pride left a shadow inside with a note on the door and a card on the floor, like a hundred times before...."

And then comes his piano solo, which is a little tough, and to make matters worse, I nearly jump when I open my eyes again to focus on the keys and find Robert setting down a glass on a napkin on the top of the piano, sitting on the bench next to me. He's watching, his lips slightly curved up, and his eyes warm and intense. I can't help but blush, looking away.

"Sorry..." I mumble, stopping. "I don't remember much and it's my favorite on the album..."

"Don't stop cause of me," he begs, and nods to the keys.

So I clear my throat and after a moment's hesitation, decide to humor him and continue.

"First it was nearly, then it was barely, now it seems pretty far. When you were tipsy, I was a wizard with a silver star....

"I will spare the details of the rocks and the nails, the times that I've lied, can't lay down tonight...I've already tried...."

And then he picks up the last lines with me, but harmonizes the vocals...he must know it all be heart, of course, so I don't know why it surprises me.

"I will spare the details, of the rocks and the nails, the times that I've lied, can't lay down tonight...I've already tried, a hundred times..." we sing together, and then I bite my lip on the last notes as silence is welcomed back into the room.

"I didn't know you played piano too," he comments, his body turned toward me.

"Self taught. I probably missed a couple notes, huh?"

"Just one or two, but nothing major," he says, but his eyes never waver from me.

So I brush a strand of hair behind me ear let mine flicker down to my lap. "I'll have to work on it..."

"Sounds a lot better on your voice than mine," he offers still, and I glance up with guilt, feeling bad about taking his song from him like that.

But he doesn't look sad. No, instead he looks like he's analyzing me, admiring me more deeply than usual, and then he's setting his glass down, leaning in slowly, hesitant. I watch as his eyes slowly close and he hovers above my mouth, giving me butterflies I haven't had since...well, since those first few times we nearly kissed. The time on set, and the time he kissed my cheek, and...you get it. He smells like the ocean still, and not a single hint of cigarette tonight...he probably left them here knowing how much I dislike it. 

Finally, he reaches me and closes the distance, and he parts my lips in the slowest of matters, pressing small, delicate kisses back on when he takes a new breath of air. His hand's supporting him on the bench as he leans his weight forward, and the gentleness of the touch leaves his mustache tickling my upper lip, but I don't comment until he pulls away and my hands slide up his shoulders.

"You should know I have a three date rule," I tease in a whisper, but my fingers are now running up through his hair, massaging his head.

"I love you," he whispers into my skin instead as he goes for my neck, his other hand suddenly pulling my waist toward him on the seat.

I can't help but lean my head back, loving this intimacy, this gentleness. It's as if my playing had made him just realize that, because he's taking his time, soft and teasing with his touches. His lips ghost my collar bone and I shiver; he knows where my spot is, and he's using it to his advantage, but that's okay. I let my breathing go ragged, and before too long, he's kissing back up my jaw and placing wet kisses at the corner of my mouth instead.

"Wanna move to the couch?" he asks, and something flares inside of me at how innocent that sounds.

I don't know how to respond, so I'm turning his head so I can claim his lips again, and then he's suddenly lifting me, wrapping my legs around his waist, as he carries me to the couch across the room - the same one I was admiring before. And then I'm being laid down gently, his body hovering over mine as he slides a hand up my side and to my zipper, tugging it down. I can't say I don't push the jacket off his shoulders, cause that would be a lie... And then he's trailing his kisses back down, leaving me gasping for breath as he does his magic for the night, completing the dinner date cycle, and I can't help but swallow down a grin as I let myself enjoy this...this intimate, delicate, quiet desire that I'm not used to.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I posted a couple new sad Pepperony one shots, take a look at those if you feel like torturing yourself. As always let me know what you think or what you wanna see happen! :)

"I said don't fucking touch me!" echoes in my ears.  "Stop lying!"

I can't pinpoint the voice.  It's familiar.  It's not Robert.

There's too much silence outside of that, with nothing but dark space around me.  Am I back at home?  No, I fell asleep with Robert.  Right?  My heart's racing though...why am I so worked up?

And then a wild crash of noise startles me, and I jump awake, gasping for breath.

Okay...just a dream...

I take a second to steady my breathing, then realize I'm still on the couch with Robert, laying between him and the back of it on my side, with my body hugging his chest.  There's a steady patter of raindrops on the windows...and then lightning lights up the room from outside.  It's storming...that's all.

I glance at the clock on my phone on the coffee table and to be honest?  I'm a little freaked out.  Just after two thirty...almost the same time Charlie yelled those things at me the first time he touched me.

I carefully lay my head down again, eyes wide open, and try to focus on Robert's breathing...his scent, the way he fells under me.  Anything to get my mind off of that nightmare.

But then he stirs, brow pressing together, but barely opens his eyes.

"Babe?" he asks, pretty coherent, yet drowsy still.  "It's just a storm, go back to sleep..."

I don't answer; I just swallow anxiously.  There's no way I'm falling back asleep now.  And he must notice how stiff I've gotten because he mumbles something as he forces himself to wake up a little more and his hand runs up my arm that's hanging onto his torso.

"Focus on my hand, okay?  Close you eyes and relax..."

And then he delicately traces his fingers up and down my arm in a lazy pattern, feathering over my skins until I get chills.  And I try to keep my mind on that instead.

It doesn't work instantly, but eventually I'm waking up under a blanket on the couch alone, to the smell of fresh coffee and a soft voice floating in from the kitchen.  So I sit up, not caring that I'm only in my underwear from last night, and drape the blanket over my shoulders, hugging it as I wander toward the kitchen.  I rub the sleep from my eyes as I walk in and pour myself a cup of coffee from the pot I spot on the counter; he's set an empty cup out for me already after that debacle in Atlanta.

"Nope, just got the script a couple weeks ago," Robert says into his phone from the island, playing with his food; some bland looking toast with peanut butter.  "Next fall, I think.  Not much going on till then, just a small project for Jon."

He gives me a pressed smile as I sip at my cup, and then I'm wandering out toward his bedroom to take a shower.  Hopefully that'll wake me up a little because I'm definitely not awake yet.  

By the time I'm out and dressed, Robert's off his call and finds his way into the room, watching as I put on my makeup in the mirror.

"You know you don't need that, right?" he asks and I roll my eyes.

"That's sweet, but these bags under my eyes aren't gonna hide themselves..." I tell him, applying foundation.

"From last night?" he asks.  "Bad dream?"

"Couldn't sleep," I confirm, closing the bottle and looking back over at him as I put away my makeup pieces so they don't cover his counter.

"Cause of the storm, or...?"

"Nah, storms don't bother me," I tell him.  "Just another nightmare, like before.  Not as bad, though.  You helped," I smirk, tossing a glance at him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Just weird; I woke up nearly the same time that I remember it being that night...just a coincidence, I guess, but still freaked me out...  But uh, who was on the phone?"

He sits on the edge of the bed, hands on the mattress as he waits for me to stop tossing things back into my bag on the floor.  "Dorito.  Just checking in; he's in town, but not till you leave."

"Dorito, like...?" I ask, knowing all about their set nonsense.

"Evans, yeah," he nods.

"Holy shit, you were on the phone with Chris Evans and didn't let me say hello?!" I gasp, tossing myself onto the bed in dismay and making the mattress bounce him slightly.  "My life is ruined," I fake sob into the mattress, voice muffled.

"Excuse me, Thomas, are you switching sides?" he asks with shock.

"Listen, I'm Team Stark forever, but Chris freaking Evans?!"

"You know you're literally sitting next to Robert Downey Jr, right?"

"But Chris. Evans.," I repeat dramatically, just being a pain in his ass.

It's honestly hard not to start laughing but I manage to hold myself together...until he pushes himself up from the bed and I notice the weight shift with a heavy sigh.  So, I push myself up on my elbows to make sure he's okay.

"Bobby?" I ask, noting he's headed for the door.

"No, no," he comments.  "I'll leave you to your fantasizing..."

"Oh come on," I laugh as he walks out.  "You know I love you!"

He doesn't answer me calling after him so I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, sighing.   Okay, if he wants to play this game we can play this game.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to send Chris these photos I took from the shower this morning!" I yell, and before I know it, he's walking briskly in, a warning look on his face.

"That's not funny," he tells me with crossed arms and I giggle and sit up.

"It is a little bit."

"Not at all," he argues, his lower lip out in pouting.

"Why are you suddenly so jealous?!" I ask and he groans when I pull him down by his arm to sit with me.

"I'm not," he sighs.  "But I got ya, huh?"

"Robert, you're an actor, I get it," I smirk.  "But I know your acting better than you realize.  ...what's up?"

"Obviously not," he grins, and suddenly I'm being whacked in the head with a pillow from behind.

"Oh, you little shit!" I gasp, and eventually we're in a full blown pillow fight using his nice decorative pillows. 

But it's okay, because when it ends, I'm laughing and trying to catch my breath and he's pinned me down on the bed, arms up at my shoulders and his legs on either side of my waist.

"Okay, okay, you win!" I tell him.

He releases me and lays down next to me, looking up at the ceiling again.  And I love this.  We're just buddies right now.  There could be sexual energy, sure...but we're just having fun together right now, and that is what I really need.

"I know you're kidding," he says on a breath once we settle down.  "But it is a little intimidating, you know."

"How?" I ask, turning my head toward him.

 "Well, for one, I'm forty eight and he's only...well, he's your age, Rach."

"Really?" I ask, and he takes it the as me sounding interested and not just shocked.  "Hey, hey, no!" I say with authority for once and he refrains from leaving the bed again.  "Listen, you guys are all Gods, you are, but I don't like Evans."

"So, one of the others then," he offers, but I hush him.

"Nope.  Just you."

"Why?" he asks next, surprising me.

"You're asking me why I prefer you?" I laugh.

"Why are you attracted to me?" he clarifies.  "I'm nothing like the other guys."

"Wow, I never thought you'd be insecure like this."

"I'm not insecure, I'm just...not your age..."

"Oh, so this still an age thing?" I smirk.  "Well then you should be happy because you know I like older guys by now."

"That's it?  You're telling me you like me cause I'm old?" 

"No, I'm telling you you're older than me, there's a difference.  You're...experienced.  And mature...ish.  And I have a thing for facial hair, and...well, you have beautiful eyes, as you must know by now."  I roll over and smile at him from my side. "You have this adorable curve to your nose and your laugh lines are just a reminder of how positive you are at all times.  And I could go on about how young your body looks, but I love you for more than just that.  Oh, and your teeth are nice too."

"My teeth?" he finally laugh, breaking down.  "That's so weird."

"Mmmm, isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?" I joke, and then I push myself up.  "Come on, we have a full day of nothing to do and I just realized I have nothing to wear on tour and ten grand to spend..."

"Probably like ten times that by now..." he tells me, but agrees to get up.  "Where do you want to go?"

"Are you okay to go into the city without  security?" I ask, not sure if it's a good idea.

"Yup," he answers simply.  "Honey, they're just cameras."

And so he decides to accompany me into the city, stating he wants to stop at a cigar shop he likes anyway.  I still don't agree cause he already has the cigarettes, but they're better than those in my opinion, so I'll let him have it.  I honestly don't mind them; my family smokes them so I'm used to the smell, and some of the flavors don't sound too bad. 

Anyway...he calls for a car to take us in, not wanting to bother with parking, regardless of if it's valet or not, and then we find ourselves wandering SoHo, where most of the celebrities live anyway.  I guess this is normal for him, but he still has his hat and sunglasses on like a dork.

"Well I was thinking something casual, but I don't want to lose their attention or give myself the wrong image, you know?" I ramble after he asks me what I'm looking for.

"This is why I have a stylist," he teases, and I roll my eyes, window shopping while he walks with my hand in his.  

"You're a bit of a fashionista yourself, so don't give me that," I answer, eyeing up a pant suit with a fitted waist.

"Nope," he answers, tugging me.  "Show a little more skin."

"It's a concert, not a brothel," I laugh.  "Shouldn't you want me to save that for you anyway?"

"I just think you're gonna come off as too innocent if you dress down," he tosses back, then points to a store up ahead.  "Check in there.  I like their stuff.  Then next tour I'm having you sit down with my stylist and we're getting you custom fitted."

"Next tour?!" I snort in laughter.  "I'm lucky there's even this tour!"

"If you don't wear the pant suit there'll be a next tour," he promises with a cheesy grin as he leans down to almost whisper that in teasing.

"Fine, fine..." I mumble, then accept his perked lips in a small kiss, fully aware that I'll probably see photos of this later. 

It's kinda cool, being able to have our life recorded like this...but it also sucks, cause one wrong move and that'll be documented too.  At least for right now, everything's going fine, so I'm not worrying about much...yet.

But I feel my hand being squeezed by his so I focus back on the now.

"Do you wanna come in, or no?" he asks, and nods to a store across the street - his cigar stop.

I glance at the one to my side and shake my head.  "I think I might take a look in here, if that's okay?"

And he smiles that cute little sealed lip smile that I love.  "Yup.  I'll just be, like, five minutes."

It's a little weird, shopping on my own in the middle of one of the nicer parts of New York. Well, I guess not as nice as like Greenwich Village, but...whatever.  Anyway, so I quickly get over my awkward feeling of being out of place and realize I have a credit card with actual money on it and not just scraps that I used to struggle through the work day for.  The price tags are still blowing my mind, though.  Come on, several hundred dollars for a shirt?!   How in the hell do people justify this?

And then I accidentally bump into someone while I'm looking through the rack and my anti social side comes out, panicking before I even speak.

"Sorry," I mumble, flashing a shy smile at the woman.

But she doesn't react the way I thought she would.   I guess I was anticipating something more dramatic?  Something snobby, maybe.  Not sure why.  Maybe just cause the city seems to be so fast paced that people don't have time for others to be in their way.

Regardless, she slowly sets down the item she was inspecting and does a double take.

"No way!" she gasps, and I quickly look around, wondering if I missed something?  "Aren't you Rachel?  That did that revamp of Sting's song?"

I stare at her wide eyed, not realizing I was going to get recognized so easily.  But I manage to blink and swallow my racing heart and nod.

"Uh, yeah.  Yeah, that's me."

"I just saw your interview from Monday!" she tells me, and she looks too excited about this.

Why?  I'm like no one.  I had one song.

"I'm a big fan," she goes on.  "Well, I love Sting, kinda grew up loving the Police.  But you guys did such a good job on that new version, and that's saying a lot cause I'm usually really picky."

Okay, so she's a talker.  At least they're all kind words.

"Thank you," I manage with a smile that I hope looks genuine...I mean, it is, but I'm not used to this so I'm panicking just a little bit.

"And, well...my son here," she says, looking around wildly and stealing his hand from somewhere on the other side of the rack, "Aaron, come here!"

I can't help but laugh, knowing my little cousins were sort of like this when we were growing up.  I haven't seen them in ages, but man, were they hard to keep track of when I used to babysit.  God, they must be like twenty two, twenty three by now?  Mental note to call them sometime and catch up...

"He's cute," I comment, when I see the boy in blue glasses and shaggy blond hair, probably not more than eight or nine.  "Hi, Aaron!"

He holds onto his mom's side, apparently shy, but I get it.

What's strange though is how easily this is coming to me.  I don't even really like kids that much.  Like, I do, but I don't know...I'm just uncomfortable with them.  Never was good at interacting much...but lately it's been easier.  Maybe it's just that point in life. 

Either way, she runs her hand through his hair and smiles.

"Thank you," she answers.  "He's also a fan of Iron Man..." she adds quietly, and I bite my lip, looking at the Marvel shirt he's wearing.

"I see that," I observe.

"Maybe...I mean, if that wasn't all for show..." she starts, and I smirk.

"It wasn't."

"Maybe you could just say hi to him for us?"

But my brain's one step ahead of them.  "Can you guys hang out here for a few minutes?  I think I might have something Marvel for him in the car.  I'll check with my friend..."

They don't need to know I didn't drive myself...or that Robert's here.  It'll be a surprise.

She looks confused but nods.  "Yeah...yeah, I gotta find a dress still anyway, so..."

"Good.  I'll be right back," I promise.

And the I step outside to see if Robert's made it back yet with no luck, so I text him and ask him to meet me if he can, then head back in.

"It'll just be a minute," I smile when I approach them again and she nods.

"Thank you, that's really sweet," she says with a sigh.  "It's kinda tough, you know? Having a boy.  I'm a single mom and I know nothing about this super hero stuff, so it's crazy that I ran into you of all people..."

I have just enough time to feign a soft smile and start to ask her about him before we're interrupted, and I turn to see Robert wandering in, bag in hand, staring at his phone.

"Hey babe, just got your text," he ventures, and I swear the mom covers her mouth with her hand in shock.

"Hey," I greet, and he turns his head up when I grab his hand.  "So I was just shopping here and ran into a fan of mine...and a fan of yours," I tell him with a grin.

"Mom, it's Mr Stark!" the kid yells, and Robert smirks, tearing off his sunglasses Tony style and pocketing them.

"Hey kid, what's up?" he asks, crouching down to his level.  "Nice shirt, is that me?"

He nods.  "Iron Man's my favorite!" he announces, no longer shy like earlier.

I feel my heart swell as I watch, loving how sweet Robert is with kids, and then his mom's talking to me through the hands over her mouth, still surprised. 

"This is amazing, thank you so much!" she yelps.

"He was just across the street so I thought I'd have him stop over," I answer kindly.  "Couldn't pass up a true Iron Man fan."

I know that cause I am one, and well, something like this would've killed me, to be honest.

"Is there any way we can get a photo?!" she asks, and I nod.

"Yeah, yeah..." I agree.  "Hey Tony, wanna look over here?" I call.

He smirks up at me and has the kid turn, pointing to his mom's phone as she readies her camera.  "Help me defend New York?"

"Like from the aliens?!" the boy asks and Robert fake cringes, just like Tony in the upcoming movie...too bad they don't get it.

"Yeah, uh, except it's your mom, so don't blast her, okay?"

They take a photo both making the Iron Man pose with their palms out, and then we both stand to take a selfie with his mom.

"Thank you," I whisper as I take his hand in mine again and we say goodbye to them.

We wind up getting dinner at a hot dog stand closer to center city just cause I'm feeling giddy and I've never actually done that.  Robert acted as if it was a sin and insisted.  There's a couple photos here and there, but it doesn't bother me. I take most of em for Robert anyway...not everyone knows me now anyway.

Once we're back home and I finish packing up my new outfits for tour, I find my way back to Robert after checking in with my mom with a text.  I gotta call her and Devin, but I've been enjoying my time with Robert...I need to balance it.

But it's late, so I wander the house until I find him in his driveway outside with the door open to the garage, working under the hood of one of his cars with a big spotlight on: one of the convertibles.  So I take a seat near him on one of the side tables with his tools and watch, listening to the crickets.

"Everything's ready to go," I tell him quietly.

He pokes his head out from under the hood with a towel in his hand, cigar in his mouth, and grease on his chin and hands and I laugh, raising an eyebrow. 

"You know the oil goes in the car, right?" I tease and he tosses the towel at me.

I shrug away as it hits me and laugh as he goes back to work.

"I'm just trying to reroute this wiring and I got side tracked..."

"Why?" I ask, and he clanks around with something under the hood.

"Engine's cutting out," he tells me. "Simple fix. Wire a couple things differently and I'll be good."

"Are you sure it's just not those lights you put in the interior?" I ask, noting the LEDs running along the floors.

"I'll check em next," he says with a grunt as he screw something into place.

"I ran mine through the battery once and it killed the relay," I continue, and that's when he stands back up, looking at me with interest. 

"You know your way around the engine?"

I smirk, loving this reaction. "A bike, not a car."

And he does a double take, then finally points to the tools next to me. "Can you grab me that 3/8 ratchet?"

With narrowed eyes, he watches as I easily pick it out and carry it over to him, placing it in his open palm.

"Hold this," he tells me, handing me a bolt before going back to his task. "You have a bike?" 

He doesn't sound convinced, but I mumble agreement anyway.

"Yup. My mom's been housing it recently though."

"What, cruiser, touring?" he muses.

"Nope. Suzuki."

"Sport?!" he asks with his eyes back on me in shock.

I nod and keep my lips tugged up, entertained.

"Gotta be a tiny thing," he guesses, and I raise an eyebrow again.

"What, cause I'm a girl?" I challenege, and he opens his mouth to answer but doesn't find words. "750."

"Shit," he curses. "I wouldn't have guessed."

"Not so innocent anymore, am I?" I joke, tugging the cigar from his lips. "You probably shouldn't have this thing lit around live wires, by the way."

And then I take it and bring it to my lips and suck in a breath. Yeah, ocassionally I took a hit of my grandfather's on vacation. I just don't like the scent following me around so I don't particularly prefer them. But the small buzz is nice, and I'm on a roll with shockers tonight, so...

He watches with dark eyes, lips slightly parted, and can't take his eyes off me as I hand it back.

"What?" I ask, trying to play it off.

"What else are you hiding from me, Miss Thomas?" he begs, and I smirk and take the wrench from his hand.

"Guess you'll have to find out," I say with humor and continue what he was doing. "Now do you want help or not?"


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda hate this but whatever. Busy weekend of sanding foam and making things smooth for painting...still have half a suit to finish though. Also: took photos of my doggo as Iron Man, so if you wanna check out her suit, the photos are posted! Twitter: @Srona_58 IG: @Srona58

Eventually, Robert had me start the engine for him and make sure everything was still functioning, but not before we were both covered in grease from under the hood. He kept questioning me, making sure I knew what I was talking about. Honestly, I don't think he really believes me...I'll have to dig up those photos, wherever the hell I put them...

But after that, we wound up in the backseat, looking up at the sky; without the house lights on, everything is secluded...it's dark enough to see most of the stars. Funny, isn't it? Such a big name, but the property is so large and the area is so upscale no one will ever bother him.

Somehow I wound up with his cigar...or the ends of it, anyway, and I layed there leaned back against his side with my legs hanging off the door's edge. It's comfortable, you know? Being able to sit like that and share pointless conversation. Mostly about his cars, about the cigars, about my family vacations where I usually have them, and then some discussion of him meeting that little fan earlier. There's just something intimate all in its own of finding out we share these two hobbies. I mean, I always knew them about him, but I didn't want to impede on his personal time, and well, who would've ever thought we'd really make it this far?

But he seemed to enjoy it, playing with my hair and rambling on about his projects and so forth...until I decided to call it a night. I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and he told me to head to bed while he locks everything back up for the night; like it's our bed, even though I'm definitely not living with him...or am I? Honestly at this point, just cause our lives are so freaking weird, we may be? Maybe? Sorta? I should probably look into moving closer to him...but it's hard when he's always all over the place with filming.

Whatever, I'm rambling now...mental notes for Devin later if she decides to work for me.

At some point I was briefly woken from my sleep when an arm found it's way across my stomach and pulled me against his warm body; he's got a t shirt between us, but that's okay; I'm a little chilly under this heavy air conditioning anyway. Anyway, I never fully wake up, but I guess he must have showered because he smells like his soap again and his skin's hot. I re position myself against him and then I'm back into a deep sleep, with no nightmares like the night before. He feels so comforting...safe...like home. Like this has always been this way. Which is even weirder, because seven months ago I was literally having a heart attack over just seeing my favorite actor in person. God, why are we moving so fast?

But in the morning, the house is empty. And it is for quite a while.

TS: Doing some errands, be back in a little bit! :)

At least he's getting good at leaving me messages...though leaving me in a hotel room versus leaving me in his actual house are a little different. I smile sleepily at my phone after I get out of the shower and answer it while I decide what I'm going to do with my morning.

R: that's fine, i'll entertain myself...love you <3

He answers pretty quickly...though it is almost noon now.

TS: Love you more. Make yourself at home.

I mean...it feels like home anyway, though I still can't really find anything and I could probably get lost in how big of a house it is. I wander around a couple times, then wind up stealing an old Police shirt of his from his closet, just wanting to be lazy. Then I find myself making my way back into the office, looking at the awards on his walls. I can't help but sit in the Iron Man seat he has and mentally pretend to be reading over scripts, that's something he's done here, right? And what do you know...there's one for Jon's movie sitting there in the corner: Chef.

I flip through a couple pages, then realize this is probably confidential, so I sigh and spin around in the chair a couple times. Then I scan over his mess of papers, wanting to organize them so badly, but I don't wanna mess anything up for work, so I refrain. Instead, I pull out my phone and decide maybe I should check in with people at home while I have time...

So I dial Devin's number, hoping she hasn't gone into work yet. She's probably on her way.

"Wow you remember me, I'm stunned!" she gasps when she answers, and I can hear the wind from the car in the background; her windows must be down.

"Sorry, I've just been caught up in things," I reply, knowing it's a lie.

And so does she. "What, like shopping for expensive clothes with your rich as hell boyfriend?"

It's a joke, she's laughing...good.

"How do you know about that?" I ask, honestly confused; we haven't talked since Fallon aired.

"His photo with that kid is the new hot thing on the internet. Guess his mom posted it and told everyone how great you were with her son."

"Me?!" I laugh. "Robert's the one he got excited for."

"Yeah, but apparently it was your idea to have them meet?" 

I bite my lip, sitting back in the chair. "Yeah...yeah, that was me. I don't know, he just had the shirt, and I mean, you know how private Bobby likes to be so he doesn't really meet people often, and-"

"Rach, relax," she requests in good humor. "It was cute! Good call on your part. Good business move. And speaking of..." she begins, and I can feel the panic starting already. 

"What?"

"I talked to the representative at that convention in the fall. You're all set. They'll announce you as soon as you sign some papers. You're only getting a couple thousand up front, but you can charge for autographs and stuff so that'll bring in some extra cash. Plus, with you being a Downey now, everyone's gonna wanna meet you."

"Dev!" I shout. "I'm not 'a Downey', I'm dating a Downey, there's a difference."

"I give it a year," she teases. "No, but seriously, I emailed you over the paperwork, didn't you get it?"

"Uh..." I start, realizing I haven't checked like anything in a few days. "Hold on."

And then I put her on speaker phone while I open my email, and to say my heart stops isn't even going to cut it.

"Shit.." I curse, and her tone drops to scold me.

"What...?"

"This is such a mess, Dev...I have like a hundred emails!"

"From who?!" she asks, suddenly excited again.

"Um...some family, I guess. Photos from my aunt...I got your stuff, I'll have to send it back if I can get into his computer..." I ramble, glancing at the desktop that's on but locked with a password. "But there's a couple from like big name people, Devin. Looks like...fuck, there's some talk shows, what looks like a couple labels. Labels, Devin!"

She hushes me next, rationally thinking for once while I'm not. "Okay, just...don't freak out yet, half of em are probably spam anyway, no offense."

"You're probably right," I sigh. "Too good to be true."

"Yeah, well, you said that about meeting Robert too, and here we are, so... Give me your login info, I'll go through them..."

"Are you sure?!" I ask, knowing that would help me out big time.

"Yeah. Yo know my degree is technically management and accounting anyway, even if I don't work in it. Plus I know you're probably panicking about the tour, so..."

"No yet," I admit. "Probably tomorrow."

"So call me tomorrow if you need me," she replies. "I gotta go though, I just got to work..."

"Okay," I agree. "I'll text you the details...thank you."

"Of course!" she answers happily. "We'll make an awesome team!"

"So does that mean you're accepting my offer?" I ask with a smirk to myself. 

She hums, thinking about it apparently. Then, "we'll see. I'll do it as a favor till after your trip."

Happy with that, we decide to end the call and I go to text Robert again, wanting to see if I can use his desktop to print out those documents and get them back to Devin. Holy hell...two grand just to show up at a convention I used to attend regularly?! This is crazy. Absolutely crazy. I mean, Robert would probably get half a mil for something like that, but I'll take anything I can get. I'd probably even do it for free!

R: hey can i use your computer? there's some stuff i need to send back to dev for that convention...

I try a couple things first...his birthday, his name, his alpaca's name... but no luck.

TS: Yup, TonyStark040465

I snicker and wonder why I didn't think of that myself, a mixture of everything I tried, and type it in.

R: really?! and you say you're not that egotistical...

But then the screen loads and his desktop wallpaper makes my grin fade into a content smile, my shoulders sagging as I feel bad. It's a photo of us from Sherlock - the same one as what my coworkers set up when I still worked at the office. It's too sweet, and I'm an ass for teasing him like that.

R: okay i take that back...

i love you

And I do. Because Charlie never would've done something like this. Charlie didn't care, he just wanted something to show off, to seem cool to his friends, almost. Not actually, but you get me, right? Like to make himself superior than others... Guess it was part of the control aspect.

But my phone buzzing again jolts me back out of my head and to reality, so I open the browser and head to my email and hit print, then read the text.

TS: I am, don't worry. But I've made a few exceptions...weren't expecting that, were you? ;)

R: not gonna lie, figured it'd be iron man or one of your cats...

TS: Maybe at the Venice office, but not here.

But hey, driving back in a second so gotta go...see you soon?

R: can't wait

I smirk to myself again, knowing he means well, and then go to pick up the documents in the printer to my side, read them over, and sign them. There's a lot included, and it's not that bad, but I'm totally panicking again. Not even about the tour, but just about...life.

So I make another call and sit back in his chair again, feet up on his desk. Maybe I'm getting a little too cozy?

"Rach?" she answers, confused.

"Hey, mom," I sigh. 

"What's up?" she asks.

"Sorry I never called you back the other day," I tell her. "I know I need to balance my time a little better, I just-"

"Rachel, stop," she laughs. "I'm honestly glad you have someone to spend your time with. Just as long as he's not treating you like-"

"Mom," I groan. "He's never going to be like Charlie. Okay, I promise..."

"Hey, just saying, I heard he's got a temper..."

"Not out of the ordinary," I tell her.

"Remember all the news stories?" she asks delicately, and I sigh. 

"He's clean, mom... You know what, I shouldn't have called, I'm sorry, I-"

But she cuts me off with a softer voice. "No, no, come on. You know I have to."

"Yeah, yeah..." I mutter.

"So what's going on? You aren't all over your new boyfriend before you leave?"

"Don't remind me," I sigh. "He's out. I'm just...well, I'm working, actually."

She clears her throat, giving me her full attention. "Working? Like...?"

"Like Devin's helping me with some stuff and...well, I'm booked for a convention in the fall, near the city. Like as an actual guest. Like people want my autograph."

She's quiet for a moment, so I go on.

"I don't know, mom, it's crazy. Things just exploded after-"

"Fallon?" she guesses. "Of course, I knew they would! Fuck, what's he like?!" 

I laugh out loud at her language, that hint of my mom that I remember coming back through the protective side. "He's so freaking happy, it's insane. I think we're gonna be buds."

"I can't believe you're living this right now," she tells me. "And you're so good with it!"

"Did you watch it?" I ask, playing with my hair now and she hums a confirmation back.

"Yup! Thought I didn't expect my daughter to be making out with a movie star on national television..."

"That was all him!" I laugh. "I kinda deserved it though, I didn't really tell him I was gonna announce it."

"Are you happy?" she asks next, and I'm quick to answer. 

"Definitely. God, mom, you can't even understand... He took me to dinner Tuesday night and you should've seen this place...I guarantee dinner was a couple hundred just for the two of us. And then we just went for a walk, and....oh, hey, does my bike still run?"

"Uh," she stutters, trying to keep up. "I think. You might need to tune up the chains, but as far as I know it still starts up. Want me to toss it on the charger?"

"Well, I don't know when I'll be home, so...I was just curious, cause we were working on his car and he doesn't believe me, so I was thinking about showing him if he comes with me for that convention..."

"You worked on his car?" she questions, amused. "You better not break that thing, I'm sure it's expensive."

"He has others," I toss out there as if it's no big deal, then blush. "I mean, it's fine, we got it rewired..."

"So when do you go to meet Sting?" she asks, changing the subject, and I swallow nervously, not wanting to think about it.

"Uhm, well, my flight leaves tomorrow, actually."

"Oh. Robert going?"

"No," I sigh. "He's got some promotional stuff to do for the new movie still, so I'm just flying commercial... I'm kinda freaked out....like what do I do? I mean we're basically living together when I'm with him, but I can't keep Aero at your place, and like, after the tour where do I go? I'm not gonna hang around with him forever if he's working..."

"We'll talk about it," she promises. "But my lunch hour is over, so how about I call you tomorrow night?"

"Okay," I agree. 

"Try not to panic and just have fun...this is a dream come true and you know it."

"I know," I say with a smile to myself. "It's so surreal..."

"Good."

"Talk to you later..." I say, ending the conversation, and then set down my phone, sighing.

I close my eyes, leaning my head back, and try to think of anything but my nerves. I can do this. I did it fine in LA. And look at how fucking crazy things are...in a good way. I had my first real interview as a singer, I'm attending a con as a celebrity guest...me, considered a celebrity...when the hell did that happen?! I'm on an actual rock star's album, I'm playing a potentially sold out arena tour, and I'm dating a Hollywood movie star...what the hell...

And I guess I get caught up in those thoughts and eventually drift off, only to be woken up some time later but a knock at the door.

"You're comfortable," I hear all too quickly, and jump in my seat as I suddenly wake up.

When I turn, Robert's smirking from the doorway, dressed in shorts and a plain white t shirt and hat, and I blink my sleepy eyes open instantly, admiring the tight fit of his wardrobe.

"Sorry," I say, running a hand through my hair. "I was talking to my mom and I had to read these papers and I must've nodded off after..."

"It's okay," he chuckles, then nods behind him. "You hungry?"

And yes, I definitely am. I didn't eat today, stupid me.

"Yeah...what time is it?" I ask, standing and stretching as I grab my paper's from his desk and lock his computer.

"Almost five," he laughs. "I took a pit stop and picked up some things for dinner....thought we could cook together?"

"What?" I laugh, stepping out into the main area. "You don't wanna just order take out or something?"

"Well, I usually cook to be honest...and I thought it could be fun. You know, last night in before you leave..."

"Don't remind me," I sigh, repeating what I voiced to my mother.

And then I wander into the kitchen, noting the small outdoor table by the pool to the side is already placed with silverware and plates and glasses, and..candles and flowers?

"What's all this?" I ask lightly, surprised.

He scratches the back of his head and gestures toward the set up. "I thought we could just have a nice dinner together....since tomorrow's our one month anniversary and we won't be together, so..."

I turn to him immediately, shock present on my face...and I feel emotional already. "Is this what you were doing all day?! You want to celebrate our monthiversary?" 

"We don't have to," he's quick to offer, his lip twitching. "I know we're both gonna be busy for a while though so I thought, why not?"

It's adorable. I mean, I can't cook much, that's one thing we differ at, but I'm willing to try for him.

"What are we having?" I ask with a smile, and he grins, holding his arm out to the kitchen with a slight bow.

"Madam," he bids, and I mirror his grin as I wander behind the island. "Thought we'd make a salad and bake some salmon, what do you think?"

"I think I'm already starving," I answer.

And I know what you're thinking. Food fight, right? There has to be some big romantic food fight? 

There's not. It's pretty tame, but he puts on music...classic stuff, too, like classic classic. Sinatra classic. I grab myself some wine that he brought back, knowing how much I like it, and there may have been a mini sing along.

But eventually we make it outside when dinner's done and enjoy it on the patio, watching the sun as it just starts to hit the horizon and set. I honestly did nothing of value with my day, but with as crazy as everything's going to be, it's fine by me.

After we clear the table, I settle myself down onto the edge of the pool, dipping my feet in, and take a big sip of my wine, setting the glass down to the side.

"You know," Robert begins, coming out from the kitchen to sit next to me. "I'm starting to wonder if we should just share a closet."

My heart skips a beat as I go straight to assuming he's offering something, then remember I'm wearing one of his t shirts...oops.

"Sorry," I laugh. "Everything I have is nice, and just felt like a lazy day..."

"Keep it," he offers.

"Thanks for making dinner," I tell him next, swishing my feet around in the water. "I had no idea you could cook like that."

"I prefer it, just don't have the time," he says. 

I glance at him for a moment, admiring his side profile and that curve of his nose I teased him about yesterday. Shit, I'm gonna miss this too much...

"So I leave tomorrow morning," I tell him sadly, and he looks over and smirks.

"Is that why you're staring at me like I'm gonna vanish any second?" he jokes.

I shoot him a look, then kick the water up slightly at him, making him laugh. 

"Stop worrying..." he tells me. "You're gonna be fine."

I fake a smile and nod, looking back at the water. "Yeah, I know."

He fake gasps. "Now who's egotistical!?"

"You're rubbing off on me," I toss back, and he splashes me this time.

"Watch it, Thomas, or you're gonna start a war you don't wanna fight."

I laugh, shielding my face with my hand. "Okay, okay... I just...I don't want you to forget about me. Six weeks is a long time."

It tugs at my hear to admit, but yeah, I am afraid. It's not that I don't trust him, it's that I don't see myself in the same light he does...not even a little bit. So when he meets someone else...someone more famous, someone more his age...

"You know, it's funny you should say that," he starts, and I look at him through pressed eyebrows. "Cause I was thinking the same thing, you know, if you meet some hot groupie or somethin..."

I roll my eyes, turning away, and he laughs.

"Relax, it's a joke. But I really was thinking about it, and...well, I lied, I made a few stops today. Cigarettes, dinner, the flowers..."

I let my eyes wander back to him, watching as he stands and walks back inside, then comes back with a box in hand, similar to that of the one he gave me on the plane on the way to LA, only this one's square. Big square, not little square, no reason to panic.

"This," he says, sitting down again and opening the box in his hands, "is for you."

It's a small stone on a thin chain, long enough to hit below my collar bone, and it's bright even in the dim outdoor lighting.

"Is that..." I breathe, and he smirks.

"Diamond? Yup."

"Holy shit," I whisper as I exhale a breath. "I can't accept this."

"Why, planning on breaking up with me?" he asks playfully, and I shake my head.

"No, it's just too-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," he laughs.

So I shut up and watch as he pulls it out of the box and scoots over to wrap it around my neck, fastening it over my hair. Then he delicately pulls my hair aside, letting it fall properly.

"It's ironic, actually," he tells me. "I didn't actually plan on diamond. I was gonna just get a gem stone...and then I thought, well, we started dating at the end of April, right? And the stone of the month for April is diamond, so here we are, diamond."

My fingers reach for it, playing with it in my hand as I stare at him. "Robert, this..these gifts...I love you, but I can't take these, this is-"

"It's not a ring, Rachel," he tells me calmly. "Just a necklace. So while you're gone, you have something from me. Now, protest again and I swear to God I'm gonna drop you into this pool without a second thought."

"But-" I argue, and he sighs.

"I warned you!"

And then before I know it he's shoving me in, and I fall and hit the water. But lucky him, I grab his arm as I go, and he's falling in behind me.

I gasp for air when I resurface, the shock of the cool temperature chilling my skin. "It's freezing!" I complain.

He smooths his hair back, a big grin on his face as he wipes the water from his eyes. "I didn't heat it this year and it's been cold at night."

"Are you crazy?!" I ask, ignoring him, and swim for the stairs. "I'm gonna get sick right before the tour starts!"

"No you're not," he laughs, walking out behind me. "Stop being so uptight, and come here!"

I watch as he pads across the patio, water dripping off his shorts, until he makes it to the corner where he starts stripping and I swear to God I forget every little bit of coldness in me.

"What in the hell are you doing?" I ask, carefully following him, and he grins when he finally drops his shorts, leaving him bare ass naked in his back yard.

"Getting in the hot tub," he grins, then steps into the small pool of water next to him. 

"Naked?!"

"Things I never thought my girlfriend would be upset about for a hundred?" he jokes. "If you're so cold, get in here!"

I blink for a moment, staring as he sinks below the water and sits at the edge facing me, his arms displayed on the patio to either side of him. And he's right, I am cold. So I slowly take off the t shirt and my shorts until I'm in just my underwear and the blush on my cheeks is probably enough to heat me back up itself...

But he stops me when I go to step in.

"Ah ah ah," he scolds. "There is a rule in this hot tub, no clothing allowed. Jewelry optional, though. You can wear that...only that."

"Robert!" I hiss. "This is not the Titanic and I am not getting naked in your back yard!"

"No hot tub for you then," he grins, then splashes me with warm water and I groan, admitting defeat.

Biting my lip, I slowly reach behind me and unhook my bra, letting it fall, and then step out of my underwear, quickly heading to the edge of the in ground hot tub. He smirks, watching as I step onto the first step, and then the second, and then when I'm waist deep he suddenly moves and grabs me by my mi section, pulling me onto his lap facing him.

I squeak in surprise, but don't struggle; the water's hot but soothing and definitely the complete opposite of the pool.

"Hey," he whispers when I settle into his touch, his face just inches from mine.

I smirk and wrap my arm around his neck for balance. "Hey yourself."

"See, not so bad is it?" he asks and I shake my head.

"You win this round, Downey..."

His hands roam my back as he glances at the necklace. "It looks even better than I imagined," he murmurs, brushing my hair aside.

I don't move my eyes from his, even if he trails his away. I'm taking this moment to remember their chocolate color, their dark lashes...

"And now," he says before leaning forward and placing a kiss on my shoulder, "While you're gone, you know I'm yours and only yours, and I'll be waiting to see you again when you're back."

I shudder at the feeling of his lips on my shoulder in the cold air, the only part above the surface, and then shift in his lap at the contact. He smirks, feeling my lower half press against his, and I bite my lip when I hear him suck in a breath.

And no words need to come after that. He glances back up at me through lust filled eyes, and like magnets, we connect in a heated kiss, my hands grabbing his cheeks as I swivel my hips in his lap. He lets his tongue search mine out, but it doesn't stop him from groaning as he shifts us so he's sitting more upright. And it sends fire through me, realizing this is probably the last time we're going to get to do...well, this, for..fuck, for six weeks?!

I must let out a moan while I'm thinking about it, because he bites my lower lip and tugs, and my hands work their way through his hair just before he goes for my neck, tilting my head back.

"Ever have sex in a hot tub?" he asks between kisses, and my heart flutters as I gasp for breath.

"First time for everything," I breathe in response.

I can feel him shift us so he can line up with me, and then he kisses back up to my cheek, nibbling on my ear briefly before whispering in it.

"Condoms don't really work under water, so I can either pull out or we can move this inside," he offers.

Shit...didn't think this through. I'm not on the pill - they wouldn't let me after the Vicodin accident. Something about blood pressure levels, yadda yadda...but do I trust him enough to make sure he gets out in time?

"Or..." I manage, enjoying his mouth nipping at my ear. "Just tell me when you're close?"

He growls in confirmation, and then he's pressing into me, letting my body sink down over him, and I have never gasped so loud in my life. This...this is new. I've never...you know, without one. And this is probably so fucking stupid, but I have a plan...

But that's as far as my thoughts go before he's helping me lift off and press back down, which is relatively easy in the water. His lips find my chest, kissing my collar bone as I lean into him and ride him. It's overwhelmingly intimate...the water, the lack of latex between us... It's just him and me and it's driving me crazy how good he feels like this...

But we can't make this a habit. I don't trust it...even if kids may not work out for me, I'm still going to be careful. And he has to, too. I mean, as a celebrity, he can't risk random shit happening...

Regardless, after a few minutes of thrusts, his breathing's getting ragged and he takes a break from his kisses, leaning his own head back. 

"Babe...babe, I'm close..." he warns.

So I slip off of him, and his head whips back up, staring at me with wide puppy eyes as though he's being tortured, but he doesn't have to panic long, because I take a deep breath and duck under water, taking him in my mouth instead.

And that's where he finishes, his hands tangled in my hair, but not pressing too hard. He's quick with it with the sudden change in feeling, and I down what he spills out before coming back up for air.

"Holy fuck," he whines. "Good plan."

I laugh, wiping the water from my face, and nod. "That was...different."

But he doesn't answer; instead he's standing up, grabbing me with him and swinging me over his shoulder as he walks us bare ass into the house, leaving the wet clothes outside.

"Robert!" I yelp. "What the hell are you doing!?"

"Taking care of you," he tells me, and I laugh as he carries me to the bedroom to take this to the mattress instead.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda short. I'm sorry. The next couple are kinda gonna be fillers, just to get back to the fun stuff. But I hope you guys keep reading cause I love reading your comments. <3

"I packed up the rest of your stuff," he tells me, handing me my bags from the front door as we rush to get me to the car on time. "You sure you don't want me to come along?"

"No," I manage, forcing a smile; remember when I said I hate goodbyes? "I don't think I'll ever leave if you drop me off..."

"I'm okay with that," he jokes with a grin and then sighs, pulling his hands from his pockets and pulling me in for a tight hug, his chin rested on the top of my head. "You're gonna kill it, you know."

I breathe in his scent, nuzzling my cheek into his soft t shirt and wrap my arms around his torso, holding on tight. "I hope so..."

"You will," he reassures, then releases me and meets me with another smile.

And then he's lifting my chin to bring my eyes up to him before he leans down to place a big kiss on my lips, savoring it for a little longer than my heart can take. His thumb grazes my cheek when he pulls back, and it hurts to keep my tears in, but I refuse to start crying now.

"I love you," I whisper and he kisses my forehead.

"Love you more. Text me when you land?"

I nod, then grab my bags and take a deep breath.

"Don't be sad," he adds, sensing it. "Nothing's ending here and I'll see you again soon. In fact, this is just the beginning of you getting to experience my kind of crazy life."

"Mmmm," I groan. "It's a little overwhelming..."

He laughs and gets the door for me. "It's exciting."

And then I have to walk outside to the driver, but not before stopping to give him a quick kiss and shoot a sad look over my shoulder.

"Enjoy it, babe," he calls after me. "Have a safe trip!"

And before I know it, I'm dropping off my stuff at baggage claim, trying to duck my head behind my sunglasses, just in case. And then I'm snapping a photo out the window of preferred seating on my flight, posting it to Twitter and Instagram with an airplane emoji because I'm not sure whether to caption it something happy or sad. Robert's quick to give it a like, but I know how little he likes to interact on there, so he doesn't comment. To be honest, he probably knows how much it'll upset me.

I spend the flight napping and replaying the morning. I didn't want to get out of bed, but Robert eventually convinced me...after several minutes of soft kisses and his hands on my body under the covers, but then he promised breakfast, and we went to Starbucks down the street and then took a small walk. He's been perfect, treating me to so much...I'm honestly spoiled. But that's definitely gonna change when we get back, especially if I have money coming in... I still haven't seen the numbers from the tour, but I imagine it's something outrageous, if just the song itself is paying so well.

Anyway...so there's gonna be a lot of repeat over the next few weeks, so please don't kill me for skipping through some stuff. But the exciting parts...man, are they a whirlwind! 

When I get in, there's a car ready to take me to the hotel. I check in, then take my things upstairs, and then I get a call from Sting to meet in the bar, so I head down and there's a group of the crew and himself there, laughing and sharing drinks. We go over the tour...in the morning we'll head to San Jose, the first stop. Then we're going to immediately do sound check, and the show's a seven. I'm panicking just a little, but I'm used to the stage and the behind the scenes stuff..it's just the amount of fans that I'm nervous for.

It's really nice getting to know the crew though...I won't remember their names just yet, but I'm sure as we travel it'll work out. But I do kind of feel out of place, as nice as everyone is...so I turn in early, wanting to get tomorrow when I'll be high on adrenaline.

I get back to my room and go to change and let Robert know I've made it, though it must be late there by now...I should've texted him earlier but I got so caught up in trying to calm myself and plan things out in my head that I didn't think to check my phone. So, I sift through my bag to find something to change into for the night, and nearly fall onto the floor in tears. I don't just text him, I call him, needing to talk to him.

"How's LA?" he answers, sounding sleepy.

But I ignore that. "Did you pack me your shirt?!"

I can almost hear him grin over the phone. "It looked better on you...and it's fitting," he tells me. "And I thought if you miss me..."

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I interrupt, but it's in a laugh.

"Sorry, I'll do better next time," he fake pouts.

"No, I mean...you just keep doing all these amazing, perfect little things and..."

"Are you crying?" he asks, confused, and I realize my voice has cracked and my eyes are a little watery.

So, I take a deep breath and steady myself. "I'm just...really nervous," I admit. "And I don't deserve this at all..."

"Rach," he laughs, "I know you didn't have the best experience with relationships, but trust me, this is what you do when you love someone."

And it echos what my mom and Devin had said, and I can't help but bite my lip with happiness. I definitely needed this tonight, and for the rest of the weeks...

The rest of the phone call is just him pep talking me, and him telling me he's gonna meet up with Chris for lunch over the weekend before he heads back to Atlanta. And a few weeks after that he's back in LA, just after my tour wraps, for a table read of Jon's movie and the Teen Choice Awards, which I'm definitely excited to attend. As a couple. The first event like that together.

And then the day of comes. We take a bus into San Jose, driving instead of catching another flight, and the trucks of Sting's equipment follow us in. He's fun to chat with, but it's not as instant spark as Robert was when we first met.

But soon we're entering the area, driving through a crowd of fans, and I glance out the window as we pass, knowing they're really only here for him. The security gate lets us pass, and when I check my phone, Twitter's blowing up with tags saying we've arrived. I check the notifications, and there's one that definitely stands out.

@RobertDowneyJr Cali ... Bored tonight? Check out my good friends @OfficialSting and @Rachel_Thomas in San Jose tonight! Tickets: ticketmaster.com/sk8kfk7j

I grin, knowing he probably had Jimmy send it out, but that's okay. I text him anyway, after retweeting him, and thank him. And then I answer the texts from Devin and my mom, both wishing me good luck.

Then we're lead down the halls underneath the stadium, which is pretty insane. I'm not familiar with these parts..usually my shows were in small restaurants or outside, and to see all this crazy celebrity treatment is blowing my mind. But that's what I'm considered now, isn't it? According to the internet?

When they show me my dressing room, they've hung up all of my outfits, and I immediately notice the flowers sitting by my mirror. When I'm left alone, I check out the card, my heart melting once again.

"Good luck, blow em away tonight! - You know who <3"

I glance back at the bouquet, admiring the blue hydrangeas mixed with white lilies; how in the hell did he remember that time we talked about my favorite color from so long ago? God, it must have been back before April, even, probably one of our phone calls.

I can't help but take a photo and go to Instagram with it. Yeah, he may not be as public, but I am. And it's not about him, or anything that'd panic him, just me thanking him for being a sweetheart, so I know he won't mind.

@Rachel_Thomas The best surprise...I'm so spoiled! <3 @RobertDowneyJr #firstshow #boyfriend #ilovehim

At some point, I'm taken away for sound check, which is normal for me. The same guys I met before are playing on drums and bass for me. My set's mainly acoustic, but half of Sting's is, anyway, so it should fit in. Maybe if I ever get bigger, it'll be more, but for now, I'm gonna stick to cycling through the songs I played in LA, with an addition of two more that I had given the crew when I was practicing with them before Robert and I went to New York. I'm probably going to switch up one or two covers in there somewhere, too, just to give the crowd something to actually sing along with. Tonight, I'm thinking Open Arms by Journey and a more modern song but by a classic artist, U2, Vertigo.

Between sound check and taking the stage, the doors open, and after I change into one of my outfits and put up my hair, I watch, shaking out my hands, as people start to fill the venue. I'm pacing the halls behind the stage, not wanting to go back to the room. If I do, I'll just get restless anyway. Here, I'm still in my vibe from sound check, and I can't let that go.

Well, until my phone buzzes and the drummer, Dave, I think, holds it up, signaling to me that I have an incoming call.

"Uh," he nearly spits out, "your boyfriend is face timing you."

I blush, my eyes flaring before I grab for it. "Thanks..."

And then I answer it, and he's waving with a smile on his face.

"Hey, babe," he says. "Breathe. You're gonna be fine."

"How did you know I'm panicking?" I ask, laughing, and he rolls his eyes.

"You're always panicking..."

"You're not wrong," I admit.

And then he turns his phone to his side. "Someone else want to wish you good luck, too!"

And it's Chris fucking Evans, waving and saying hello.

"Hi Rachel! Downey can't stop blabbing about you so I wanted to finally meet you."

I let my jaw fall, blinking slowly as I laugh how ridiculous he is. "I'm sorry in advance for anything he says," I joke, and Robert snaps the phone back to him and gasps.

"I have behaved, thank you very much!"

I snicker and take in his adorable face. "What are you guys up to?"

"Just went to dinner, hanging out, the usss," he says, shortening the word usual but dragging it out at the same time. 

"Isn't it like ten there?" I ask and he shrugs.

"Rachel, I'm not that old," he teases. "Or do I have to prove that again?"

I hear Evans groan so I laugh and shake my head. "Go hang out with your buddy, I have to hit stage soon anyway..."

"You're gonna rock itttt," he sings, and I feel my spirits lift already. "I'll call you in the morning?"

"Sounds good," I confirm," and then he's ending the call and I set my phone back down, sighing.

The band gives me a few looks and I can't help but raise an eyebrow as I gather my guitar and strap that in and give it a tune, not wanting to comment. It is funny though, seeing everyone react that way when they see me chatting so casually with Downey.

But then I have to pace my breathing as I get the signal for the band to go on. I hang back, waiting for them to set up, and then play the plans out in my mind, making sure I know what I'm doing. Go through mine, I remind myself, hit one cover in the middle, one at the end. Smile. Talk. Be happy, and don't expect them to all be seated yet; you're probably only playing for half the arena, at most.

And then I'm being introduced out and to my surprise, there is applause. And cheering. And I'm 95% sure that's just because they now know me as Robert's girlfriend, but whatever. I might play on it and see what the reaction is...

But for now, I settle on something normal, introducing myself since this is the first big show I've done.

"Wow, there are so many of you..." I joke into the microphone when I enter the stage, and I can't help but look around, in awe at this feeling...of being so small in a space filled with so many people...and all of their eyes and ears turned toward me. "Well, hi. I'm Rachel Thomas, I don't know if you've heard of me..."

And another surprise, there's some whistling and confirmations, and that thrills me and gives me confidence. So I go into my set, and like the last time I played, I have their attention, which is amazing. They sing along to the first cover, as hoped, and by the end, the seats are filling up as they get ready for the real reason they gathered tonight, their main act, Sting.

"I gotta say, I never thought I'd be doing something like this..." I tell them, catching my breath and now I get that feeling of pride in my chest, knowing I accomplished my goal; this...most of my life, has come to this moment, and hell, if my life isn't fucking perfect. "I used to dream about signing for people when I was a kid. And now, I get to play for this amazing city," I grin, as they celebrate their hometown, "with an amazing main act, am I right? Who's ready for Sting?"

They celebrate again and I laugh into the mic.

"I just want you to know how blessed I feel right now...I have the best family, the best boyfriend..."

And there it is, the whistles from the women in the crowd, and I strum around on the guitar, laughing at that.

"And now, I get to say I have the best friends, too! Thank you for hanging out with me tonight, guys! How about one more that you should know before we wrap it up?"

And I go into the second cover, ending on a high note with applause and then hop off the stage, laughing in pure joy as the crew strips me of my guitar and the microphone hookups. I get handed a bottle, just like before, and I drown myself in water, thirsty as hell under those hot lights. But I'm jumpy, shaky...thrilled. I did it, and it felt fucking great, and I get to play seventeen more shows of this in the upcoming few weeks. This is nuts!

And even though I'm a sweaty mess, I don't care at all when I get back to my room and change into comfortable clothes, wanting to go out to the pit where I'm allowed to stand with security and watch Sting perform. I haven't seen his set in person before, and I know my mom would die for some info on it...honestly, I think I'm gonna have her come to one show when we closer to home...I think there's a stop in Ohio somewhere...

I make it through half before I start to feel my phone going off on my pocket, and I grab for it, looking at the notification.

A photo on Instagram, taken from tonight by a fan...

@RobertDowneyJr You owned it tonight, love...so proud of you!

I read the caption twice, then note how happy I look. A little messy and gross, but that's to be expected if I'm under those lights and hopping around stage.

I comment on it with a couple hearts, then mute the notifications from the fans for just a few hours, and then read my texts, from Devin in specific, that immediately follow Robert's post.

D: it's like one am here and idc, i watched the videos on twitter and i can't believe you DID THAT

like seriously, even your speech was great - they're already gushing about it!

I smirk, texting back, trying to remember what I even said prior to playing.

R: what, why?! I just introduced myself.

D: Nope!

'Rachel Thomas drops mention of new boyfriend in San Jose...' 

and then his post?! god you two are literally the cutest and i sort of hate you but i'm so happy that things are so different and finally going your way

I can't help but feel emotional at this. I haven't been that great of a friend recently, but she cares so much and like I probably said at the very beginning, this girl is like my sibling. I really need to start being more open and talk to her more, even if I'm going to get really overwhelmed really fast.

R: i love you, dev. this is all so surreal...

D: my best friend's a star!

you know that, right? your name is up in lights where it should be and you have everything you've ever wanted...

R: i know, i still think i'm dreaming. 

but hey you need to sleep! 

D: i know...call me tomorrow? 

R: yup! night

I briefly look at the tour schedule, noting I should have time before the next show to talk with her about actually managing me...I went through some emails yesterday, but God, there's too many. And now, with this fame...if people actually know me...

Seventeen shows. All over the span of the next six weeks.

Phoenix

Las Vegas

San Francisco

Seattle

Denver

Houston

Cleveland

Indianapolis

Chicago

Dallas

Los Angeles

Some with multiple stops, but those are the cities. I'll call in my mom and Devin to the Cleveland show, I think...and then hopefully, hopefully, she'll say yes to coming with me and helping me out.

But truthfully, I do hate how much running around there is...because I wish Robert was here to witness this. But at least he'll see the video...this is finally me, out of my shell, like he wanted way back when we first went to New York together. Not the scared, unsure person I usually am, but the confident one...the one who's been built back up, finally, nearly forgetting my past and my issues and doing what I love.

And let me tell you, having a boyfriend who publicly states how proud of you he is...yeah, that's an outstanding feeling.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had a member of my family suddenly pass today, so I might not update for a little longer than anticipated with the original delays from costuming..sorry guys. It might be a very busy weekend for me. Thanks for understanding.

"Okay, and only like half the seats were full when I went on, so I was like nope, there's no way this is gonna go well. Not like LA, you know? That place was packed from the beginning. But they cheered. Again. And I just, I don't know, it just kinda came naturally to me, and-"

"Babe."

"-I just went with it, and played through some stuff, and it felt like I was talking to a friend, you know? But there were like thousands of them, not just one, and-"

"Rach."

"they actually listened to my words, not just kinda tuned me out till I played something they recognized. And oh my God, the pictures!"

"Rachel!"

"Yeah?" I finally ask, snapping back to focus at the sound of his voice.

"Take a breath," he laughs over the phone, and I do so, realizing I actually need it.

"Sorry..." I sigh. 

But he's happy as can be, but what else is new? "Don't be, you're excited. As you should be. Just...slow down a little so I can keep up."

I smirk, laying my head against the pillows. "Is this really happening?!"

"Yes, weirdo, it is. I told you, you're good. Start believing me."

And then I let out a squeal and toss around in the sheets, grinning ear to ear. "And God, they knew about you!"

"Everyone does," he remarks, cocky as ever, but I just laugh.

"No, like they knew me for me, but when I mentioned you, they went nuts."

"I heard," he answers, amused.

"You did? Did you watch it?! They had fan videos online before Sting even finished!"

"Yeah, and you gained a shit ton of followers since Fallon," he tells me. "Are you checking that stuff?"

"Devin is. Sort of. We both are... She's got all these interviews set up for me and I'm kinda panicking...Fallon was cool, you know? Easy to talk with. But these guys..mostly local radio stations and stuff, people who don't really need a face for TV..."

"Well," he exhales. "I just try to remind myself that they're interviewing me. I'm the one who's gonna be controlling how to conversation goes, not them. They ask the questions, but I get to take it where I want to."

"They're just gonna ask about you," I admit.

"So comment and then bring up something else, like our plans for your songs, or...tell a funny story or something," he offers. "Just don't give em what they want."

"What's that?"

"A story. Gossip."

"Well, I'm not gonna be rude!"

"I'm not saying be mean," he chuckles. "Just be yourself but don't let em take advantage of you."

"I'll try..." I mumble, not wanting to work myself up yet.

"So," he tosses back, changing the subject. "Best boyfriend, huh?"

I bite my lip, nodding to myself. "Yup. I think so." Then I calm down just a little bit, sounding more sincere. "No one's ever been this supportive of me before...outside of Devin and my mom."

"Get used to it," he tells me. "Just think of me as your biggest fan."

"Only if I'm still yours," I tease. "Who am I kidding, of course I am! All of those women in the crowd went nuts for you but I'm the one who gets to call you every day."

"Speaking of," he comments next. "I might not be at my phone as much coming up. Flying back to Atlanta today and we're gonna start up some promotional stuff for closer to the release. Photo shoots and interviews and stuff..."

"That's okay," I sigh. "You have work and so do I, I guess."

There's a pause and then he's quieter than usual. "I wish I could be there with you."

"Yeah..." I smile. "Me too."

"You're wearing my shirt, aren't you?" he probes, and I blush, noting the fact that I did, indeed, put it on before bed.

"Maybe..."

"Knew it!"

"Or maybe I'm not wearing anything at all..."

I can hear him suck in a breath and I laugh, loving how normal this teasing is for us now.

"Why don't you uh, why don't you tell me about it?" he asks softly, and his voice is suddenly huskier.

But I don't give in that easy. "You have to get back to packing!" 

"But-"

"Nope," I grin. 

"That's mean, Thomas. Mean..." he groans.

"I know..." I say kindly. "But I gotta go, we're leaving for the buses soon, and....well, why don't you send me proof once you've finished packing and maybe you'll get a surprise?"

"You mean-"

"Don't ruin the surprise!" I snap playfully, and he laughs.

"Okay, okay! I'm on it!"

"Love you," I say through a giggle and I can tell he's smiling.

"Love you more. Be safe."

Yeah, that was pretty much it besides a few texts that week and a call during lunch on Thursday, and a face time request on Friday night. I did wind up sending him a slightly uh, risky photo, but nothing too revealing...just my underwear, and...well, that's the first time I've felt okay doing that, too. And then talking got a little more spaced out. He started with a few photo shoots for the posters. Some with the suit, some CGI. Then they had him going over scheduling plans, letting him know their plans for the following year with the release. He mentioned something about filming behind the scenes interviews after the fact, and he's sitting in on some early editing sessions, just to see a rough cut of the film. I don't really understand it all just yet, but maybe next movie I'll be around for it so I can see his side...

Anyway, we get into Phoenix after a long couple of days and short stops, and on Tuesday I have that interview with their radio station. Devin's been on top of things, working her ass off communicating with these people who have reached out to me. But I gotta get a team on this, maybe hire some people, I don't know... Maybe if I ever get signed with someone, as if that's ever going to happen...

It goes as expected, I guess. Robert texts me good luck, the sweetheart. And then I go into the studio, being welcomed into their room with the hosts. It's an afternoon show, nothing too many people will catch, but it's something. 

"Welcome back to 95.5 The Mountain," the host says. "So, we have a guest today, sitting in with us for a few minutes. Rachel Thomas, welcome to Arizona!"

"Thank you," I say happily, trying not to get too close to the mic. "It's actually my first time here!"

"Really?" they ask, surprised.

"Yeah."

"Well, you're from Pennsylvania, aren't you?"

"I am," I confirm. "Which is like the exact opposite of this weather."

"Right," he agrees.

"But at least it's dry heat. So I'm okay with that."

"Now you're only in town for a few days," he goes on. "Today, and then tomorrow, for the show."

"Yes," I answer. 

"And if you guys don't know already, we have Sting in town tomorrow," he adds, for the listeners. "So, I have to bring it up...you two met through your family, right?"

"Yeah," I answer, grinning and forgetting my nerves as we dive into normal stuff I've answered a thousand times to people before. "At my aunt's house, in Malibu, actually. They're neighbors."

"Really?!"

"Yup! It's crazy. They got him to play as a favor and we just hit it off."

"And you do a phenomenal job with the new version of Every Breath You Take," he compliments.

"Thank you!"

"And you're on that track with Robert Downey Jr, if I'm not mistaken."

I blush, pressing my lips together before I remember we're on radio and not on TV. "Yeah, it was kinda like the version from TV a while back."

"I actually played it prior to you coming on," he tells me, and doesn't comment on Robert...yet. "It's got this nice acoustic aspect to it, different from the original."

"It does," I answer. "It's a little slower, too, which I kinda like better than the original...sorry," I add, realizing I don't want to offend anyone.

"Well that's kinda your style," the radio personality adds.

"Yeah. I think I'd like to stay simple like that. Kinda a 90s alternative vibe, you know? Stuff I've lived with, grown up with."

"Which is different from Robert's style, though," he muses, and I inhale sharply.

"Yeah, he's more jazzy. Piano is his go to."

"And you two met then too," he says, more of a statement than a question, as he shuffles through his papers. "And now..."

"Yup," I answer shortly, but still pleasant.

"What's that like?"

"What?" I ask. 

"Dating Robert Downey Jr," he presses, and I take a second to think of how to answer that.

"It's uh....unpredictable," I settle on. "In a good way."

And thankfully that's it. He asks about my future plans, speaking of unpredictable, and then asks about our other tour stops, and that's about it. I made it through my first interview with no issues!

The show goes like the last one does. I won't bore you with that. But the next couple of days are spent traveling to Las Vegas, where we have a show on both Saturday and Sunday, being a big city. Devin sends me details for similar interviews, and it seems everyone's asking the same questions, to be honest. I guess Robert listens to some eventually, because even though we haven't talked much, he calls me when I wake up in the hotel the bus stopped at between Phoenix and Vegas.

"What?" I mumble, not realizing I'm even answering the phone until I wake up at the reply.

"Sorry, Princess, should I call back later?" he asks sarcastically and I huff into the pillow. 

"It's like seven," I groan, and he laughs.

"It's like ten, sweetheart."

"Shit," I gasp, sitting up immediately. "Shit, I gotta check out in an hour and get my ass to the bus."

"Just call me when you can," he says happily. "I just wanted to say good morning...and I listened to your radio shows, you did great."

Smiling, I rub the sleep from my eyes and sigh. "I love you."

"I miss you," he counters, and I hum in response.

"Miss you too. But uh, what, one week down? Five to go?"

"I thought I was supposed to be the one to calm you down," he jokes.

And then I'm rushing to pack and get my ass on the bus so we can head into Las Vegas. 

If I had more time, I would've gladly stopped to hit a few casinos, just cause it's Vegas, and I mean...you have to! Plus, Dave, the drummer, and I have kinda hit it off and have been pretty good buds...so he would've gone with me had I asked. 

But I was given a task to do as soon as we got there; the photos came in from the first few shows and I have to pick the ones out I like so they can produce a tour book for the merch stands, and I don't have the slightest clue what I'm doing. Which is why I wind up calling Robert, but first...checking into the room at one of the fancy hotels downtown is definitely more action packed than I prepared for.

I wait in line, knowing Sting has someone check him in, but honestly, for the most part, this tour is mainly just me and a bunch of people I just met. I don't have a huge staff or anything...so I've been doing everything on my own. Thank God Robert had everything set up prior to me leaving...I never would've planned all of this out on time.

"No, there were supposed to be two separate rooms," the guy in front of me argues. "One smoking, one not, and now we have two smoking rooms and I'm not sleeping in that!"

"Sir," the woman at the counter tries to calm him down. "I can't move you, we're all booked for tonight."

"Bullshit you can't move me," he argues. "Do you know how much money my guys have given this place?"

I roll my eyes, and deciding to be a bigger person, step up and interject.

"Sorry, I'm just waiting and couldn't help over hearing, so...I should have a nonsmoking room. If you wanna change them, that's fine. My boyfriend smokes anyway, so I'm used to it."

I give her my info after she blinks at me in silence, processing, and then finally look over at the guy.

"Sorry, I-holy fuck, you're Rob Thomas," I spew out, fan girling yet again.

"You're Rachel Thomas," he comments.

"Uh, yeah," I stutter. "You're uh...you guys are like one of my favorite bands...wait, you know who I am?!"

And if you didn't know, he's the lead of Matchbox Twenty, who I've learned to play guitar to, learned to sing to...mostly just progressed in music to.

"Yeah, you're kinda all over the news right now," he says shyly, scratching his head..now he's settled down quite a bit. "Are you sure, about the room, I mean?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine," I answer awkwardly. "I've gotten accustomed to dealing with it. A couple nights won't hurt."

"Thanks... Sorry, for that...I'm just a little allergic to it, and I don't wanna chance anything and miss out on our studio sessions..."

"Oh, you're recording again?!" I ask, rather excitedly, and he nods. "Yeah, the guys and are are in town for a few weeks doing some work on it. Should be out in the fall."

"I can't wait," I admit. "I'm pretty sure I have everything you've ever released."

"Really?" he laughs lightly and I nod as the woman hands us both our room keys, respectively.

"Well uh..." I mumble, not sure what to do now...I'd give anything to chat with him some more, but I need to learn to cool it. "Enjoy the room."

"Wait, uh, you're playing here tomorrow, right?" he asks, and I smile in affirmation.

"Yeah, Sunday too."

"Right. I'll see if the guys wanna stop by. Maybe we can play a few?" he offers, and I feel my heart race as I picture that; what a dream come true...again!

But I swallow it down, wanting to make a good first impression...a professional first impression, and agree quietly. "I'd love that, honestly. Uh, here, I'll give you this..."

I dig through my bag, then pull out one of my cards from work and hand it to him, embarrassed that I haven't made up ones for singing yet.

"Financial consultant, huh?" he smirks, looking it over.

"I...yeah, I'm new at this," I laugh, not wanting to lie. "Honestly wouldn't have even made it this far if Robert hadn't helped plan my stops out..."

"Right," he hums. "I forgot you two were a thing."

"Well, you're the first I've heard that from," I laugh.

"I don't pay attention to it much," he tells me. "Work and family keep me pretty busy."

Eventually we part ways and when I board the elevator I sigh and bite my lip, holding in a smile, until I get to my room. Holy hell, how does this crazy shit keep happening to me?!

When I enter, I set my stuff down and carry the photo book to the table in the sitting area, then open the door to the balcony to let in some fresh air and get rid of the stale cigarette scent at least for a little while. As much as Robert smokes, I still haven't gotten used to it...yeah, I kinda lied, whatever. And I'd really wish he'd quit, but that's a battle for another day.

So I lay out all of my photos and then set up my phone to face time Robert, waiting for him to pick up.

"Look. At. This." is all I say after his cheerful hello, and I show him the table full of photos. "Just look at it. It's me. And I don't look like I've been chewed up and spit out by a giraffe."

"Well..." he answers, confused. "That's an image..."

"Yeah, I don't know," I laugh, setting it back down facing me. "I have to pick out photos for the tour book. I'm going to be in his freaking merch display."

"You're cute," he comments, and I stick out my tongue.

"Where are you?"

"The hotel with Gwyn and Jon," he tells me. "Just hanging out."

"Hi!" I hear Gwyneth shout from somewhere ahead of him, cause his eyes flicker up with a grin and the screen reflects off his glasses.

"Hey," I laugh back. "You want me to call later?" I ask Robert next, feeling bad for interrupting. "Or tomorrow?"

"Nope, now's perfect," he argues. "How's Vegas? Get any strippers yet?"

"Not that I would share with you!" I joke and he looks almost disheartened but I push past that. "Guess who I met though?!"

"I'm afraid," he laughs. "Who?"

"Rob. Thomas. From Matchbo-"

"Matchbox Twenty," he grins. "Yeah, almost met him in Tribeca once but wound up not going."

"You like them?!" I gasp excitedly. 

He shrugs. "They're okay."

"I can't date you anymore," I state with a straight face, and I know he doesn't buy it.

"Uh huh," he hums. "So was he the stripper, or?"

I roll my eyes. "No, we traded rooms. Guess he's allergic to cigarettes."

"You don't like them either," he answers, confused, and I twist my lips before responding.

"Yeah, but I can tolerate it, thanks to you."

He raises and eyebrow, but I just smile back so he softens up.

"But," I continue. "We're gonna meet up and play together, I think," I tell him. "He's staying down the hall and-"

"And you're gonna stay far far away from that room," he interrupts and I hear Gwyneth scolding him from wherever she is.

"Oh, stop! When did you get so insecure?"

"I'm not insecure!" he snaps back playfully. "I'm just saying, if he's a stripper, and he's staying down the hall-"

"He's not a stripper!" I groan. "What is it with you and strippers? Is there something happening there that you're not telling me?"

"Just your average wild orgy," he answers easily and I open my mouth in shock, laughing at him.

"Robert!" Gwyneth and I shout at the same time and his eyes widen.

"What?!" he asks as if nothing's wrong, so I decide to one up him.

"You didn't invite me?!"

I can feel myself blushing at the comment, but it still stuns him, and he's looking up at Gwyneth, impressed. 

"This. This is why I like her."

And then he scolds me a few more times as I gush about meeting him and tell him the story, but I can tell he's just a little jealous since he's in Atlanta and I'm on the other side of the country. But I distract him by asking him for advice on the photos, and eventually a few of those are picked. Then he's saying goodnight to me, so he can wrap things up with Gwyneth and Jon, and I decide to take a shower and sift through some Twitter comments before bed.

The next two shows go smoothly, aside from not actually being able to meet up with Rob and the band. They wind up getting caught up in something or other, or so he texts me from an unknown number before Sunday's show, but promises to reschedule. And that's how I get Rob Thomas's phone number. And it's cool, you know? All of a sudden I have these friends, these famous friends...and this is just all from this week, from this tour.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys don't mind me basically fast forwarding but I didn't want to make everything so repetitive, so...trust me, lots to come after this. Lots... Please comment, let me know what you think...probably the last filler chapter, I swear.

It's really not hard to tell when Robert's jealous. It's kind of funny, actually. Not that I want him to be jealous or feel bad, but come on...Robert, jealous?! If anything, the tables should be turned for sure. But after his conversation on face time and the texts that followed over the next three weeks of the tour, it became very apparent.

I guess it didn't help that Rob and I started actually talking. It was harmless, but I guess he came up a few times when Robert and I actually had time for a phone call, and even though he was trying to hide it, he sounded upset.

Still, Rob and I only chatted about stupid things. After apologizing for not making it to one of the shows, we just began chatting about life in general, nothing important.

RT: is it weird that we have the same initials

R: and last name. maybe we're related.

RT: must explain the shared talent

I mean, it really is just chit chat. He's a little cocky, just like Robert, but not quite on his level. He's nice, and we're definitely developing a friendship, but that's it. Trust me, I have all I've ever wanted in Robert. And so that's what I insist, every night after the show by texting him an 'I love you', or whenever he gets a second to talk on his days off... But I don't know, maybe it's just that we're both busy, maybe it's his jealousy that I'm trying to ignore, but it's tough. Honestly, it's probably just my own insecurities coming back out since...well, for the first time since Charlie. 

But, I refuse to believe it's anything more than that. Our schedules don't always line up so most of the time apart is turning into voicemails and texts. I catch him between shows, but Devin's filled up my schedule with radio interviews, and believe it or not...meet and greets during shows! So I'm not sitting around, I'm doing photos for free during Sting's set for anyone who wants one, with the help of my band as security. It isn't crazy busy, but there's a steady line. I guess more people believe in me than I thought...

And that's confirmed after the shows in San Francisco on Thursday, when I log on to Twitter and notice the little blue check mark now next to my name. Holy shit, they gave me a verified account?! No way!

So I immediately check in with Devin to see if it's something she's done. She doesn't tweet for me, but she has login credentials.. 

R: did you see my twitter?!

D: HOLY HELL YOU'RE VERIFIED?!

R: i thought you did it?!

D: nope! i bet ya robert did it.

you dating him is definitely giving you status...

And she isn't wrong...I Google myself that night at the hotel bar and everything related is about the tour or our show on Fallon still. It's almost scary, how much information the internet has on me, but it's to be expected. It's all little details, like my height, my mother's name...and my favorite part? The little part that details my relationships...though the past does have Charlie listed, nothing else is mentioned. But the present...the present makes me smile.

Relationship: Robert Downey Jr (boyfriend)

Guess it's internet official now...

"Miss him, huh?" I hear, and I look up to Dave, the drummer I've become close to, grabbing the seat next to me.

I smirk, nodding. "Yeah. He's been working, and we've been traveling, so..."

"Time zones don't help," he comments, ordering himself a beer.

I sigh, knowing that's the complete truth, and turn my phone off, taking a sip of wine I have for myself. "Not at all."

"You guys okay?" he asks next, folding his hands over the bar top after he's handed a glass bottle, and it makes me panic for just a second.

"Yeah," I tell him, assuming that's the right answer. "I mean, we're already half way through this...so I'll see him soon."

"You can't call him?"

"I can..." I mumble. "But he's busy, and..."

"So what? Five minutes doesn't hurt."

I force my lips up in an agreeing smile, but I kind of don't. I know he needs to focus on work...but it doesn't help when I see paparazzi photos of him and Gwyneth out to dinner or him shopping around by himself, when he could totally be answering my messages, but isn't. But there's probably a good reason and at least I have people keeping me up to date on him while we're apart. We do have a few minutes to talk on the phone between San Francisco and Seattle, but Friday he has dinner with his buddies who I haven't met, but I know Jimmy's with him, so he won't get into anything too childish...

After Seattle, I put in a request for tickets to get my mother and Devin to the show coming up in Cleveland, since it's the closest I'll be to stopping near them, and I know my mom wishes she could see a show. Thankfully, it's approved, and I just have to make it through another week of stops, first in Denver and then two shows in Houston over the weekend.

It's kind of boring, and I don't hear from Robert much outside of a few good morning texts, but I do catch a clip of an interview he did earlier in the week the night before the second show in Houston. It's from a short teaser they did from set, just something for the fans telling them they wrapped, and he shares the few minute interview on his Twitter and Facebook. It's just him talking about Tony and Gwyneth mentioning Pepper, but there's a few shots from the wrap party, which includes just a second of footage of Robert and I dancing, and that's when it hits me.

My heart aches, and I just miss him. Miss talking with him, miss hearing his voice or his quirky deadpans when I try to make a joke, or...fuck. Anything, really. And for some reason, I go back and rewatch that second of video, and then I'm trying not to cry as I sit in my hotel bed wearing that shirt he packed me, that doesn't even smell like him anymore.

So I pick up my phone, not even thinking about the time zone differences, and cave, going to his messages and hitting the dial button.

"Babe, it's like one in the morning..." he mumbles sleepily into the phone when he picks up and it hurts.

"Sorry..." I whisper, trying not to sound sad. "I forgot, I'll just call tomorrow..."

"Hey," he hears it, and he's probably also heard the waver in my voice, because he's waking up, just like he did that first phone call we ever had. "No, I'm up, I'm up...what's going on?"

"Nothing," I lie, though the droplet that trickles down my cheek states otherwise. "I'm sorry, go back to bed."

"Nope. Now ya got me, sweetheart. So what's wrong?"

I take a deep breath, loud enough for him to hear, and realize I don't even know what I want to say, so I just go with the obvious... "I love you..."

My voice cracks at the end, though, and he catches that one for sure.

"Love you too, crazy..."

I smile to myself at this, and then I'm wiping that tear away, feeling stupid for doubting things, but then he's pressing anyway.

"You don't sound like you believe it..." he probes.

I swallow nervously, but know I need to be open with him, so I am. "I just...miss you. And I hate these stupid time differences, and I hate how busy we both are, and how alone I am here, and I love touring, I do, but..."

He chuckles next, making me sigh. "You need to relax, Rach. You are far from alone. Do you know how many fans you've gained? Hell, I got asked about you the other day when one tracked me down at lunch."

"Really?" I answer softly, in disbelief.

"Yup. Loves us both. Meant to tell you the other day but I guess it just slipped my mind."

And it reassures me. Enough to let him go back to bed with a sweet goodnight, and he kindly reminds me that there's only two more weeks left until I meet him back in LA. I guess my mood turns around from there, because that's when things start to get a little out of hand. In a good way.

The band assists me in the now usual meet and greet photos after my set on the second night of Houston, and I go through a couple young girls, complimenting me as I sheepishly thank them and take a quick photo with them. But then I'm approached by an older gentleman...not like, Robert old, but probably in his late sixties or earlier seventies. He's dressed nicely, and his silver hair is slicked back. And he has a card in hand, which he proceeds to hand me.

"Rachel, very nice to meet you," he says before I can speak.

I glance at the card. 'Eclipse Music Group' is written across it. And then I look up, my brow pushed together in question.

"I'm Joe Picalno," he tells me. "I scout for up and coming talent with our new label, and I think you'd do some good in the music industry."

I feel my heart skip and I blink, forgetting how to speak, so he goes on.

"I don't know if you've signed with anyone yet, or if you're looking, but I would love to work with you on releasing an EP, maybe more if that goes well."

"You...you want me to record at your studio?" I stammer, and he smirks, nodding.

"Think about it. We're located in Nashville, so not quite near your hometown. But I bet you're used to moving around by now, so if you decide you're interested..."

I nod, thanking him, and that's all I can comprehend. And God, do I want to tell Devin, tell Robert, anything...but I know nothing about this guy, and I want to do my research before I agree to anything or get excited about anything. It isn't a big label like the one's everyone's heard of, but who knows, maybe this is my step into something bigger.

So, I spend the next two days as we travel looking into it. There isn't much, though. A Facebook page that doesn't have much activity. A few bands I haven't heard of. But he did say it was just an EP, so it would just be a few songs, not a full blown album. Then we take that, send it out to the other labels, maybe catch someone else's eye...

And then I pass on the information to Devin when I see her...which is Cleveland, that Tuesday. I don't see them before the show; my mom comes late, straight from work, and I'm sure Devin's with her. But they were to be given passes for backstage to sit on the side and watch, so I'm pretty sure they watch my set. 

But as much as I want to listen to this screaming crowd even longer, I want to see them more, and I'm quickly off stage and headed back to my dressing room, where I'm sure they've migrated to to leave room for them to clear the stage of my stuff and get Sting set up.

And I'm right. As soon as I enter the room, I'm met with high pitched squeals from Devin, and I'm pulled into her embrace quickly after, her slender body shaking me back and forth with enthusiasm.

"I haven't seen you in four weeks!" she yells, then releases me. "I mean, I've seen your videos, but your mom over here-"

"I told you I wasn't crying!" my mother snaps, then stands to come hug me. "I'm so proud of you..."

"Thanks," I laugh, and then Devin's sitting me down on the couch catching me up on life, and she starts throwing the big pitches at me.

"So they're announcing your appearance at the convention in the fall later this week, and the last few checks from this stuff has been deposited into your accounts. Oh, and I also set up a few local interviews for next week, and-"

"Okay, slow down," I request, and my mom laughs from the seat across from us. "I'm headed back west after this, Dev."

"You have a week break after Indy on Fri," she points out. "And I just finalized a little something that you're going to probably faint from, so please promise me you'll drink some water first."

I eye her, and then grab the bottle on the table and do so to humor her. "Okay. Hit me with it."

"Your opening a cup game on home ice with the national anthem," she rushes out, and I let my eyes dart between her and my mom.

My mom's got her hands clasped over her mouth, her eyes bright with amusement as she waits for me to freak out.

"You're kidding, right?" I ask, and Devin shakes her head with pressed lips.

"Game two, semi finals," she tells me. "They're giving you a suite for the night to watch the game, and you'll get to meet the team."

"Ohhhh my God," I exhale, my heart rate picking up. "I have to...I have to tell Robert, and Jimmy, and...they can come, right? We literally just talked about going to one, and-"

"Already cleared it," she teases. "Geez, give me some credit!"

"I'd be so lost with you two," I mutter in embarrassment. "Dev, seriously...I need your help."

"I know," she laughs. "Which is why I'm doing what I can!"

"I know," I groan, but...Dev, I'll pay you. Come on the rest of the tour with me. Help me figure out this shit, cause..."

"What like...quit my job?" she manages, and I bite my lip, nodding.

"I mean...I can't do this alone anymore, and Robert has his own career to deal with so he can't keep his guys focused on setting my stuff up, and-"

"Okay," she answers, but I must miss that, because I offer her double next, and she laughs. "Rach, I said okay!"

"Wait, really?!" I ask, excited, and she nods, clapping her hands together.

"Yes! Yes, this is gonna be amazing!" she celebrates.

"Why don't you take Aero with you?" my mom asks next, and I think about it, wondering how he'd fair with the traveling...but it's all been by bus, so...maybe? "We can set everything up when you come back for the game."

And so we agree to start her on my pay after the show in Indianapolis next week, and that gives her time to tell work she's leaving at the end of the week. I wish she'd give two week's notice, but it was never her favorite job, anyway, so she doesn't feel like she owes them anything.

"By the way," I add, handing her the card I have in my bag from the man at Eclipse. "This happened in Houston..."

"Holy hell, is this an actual record label?!" she gasps, and my mom steals it from her hands, analyzing it.

"Yeah," I answer. "I mean, I don't know how legit it is, but they told me to think about it, and I figured you could look into it because I can't find a thing... I haven't said anything, not even to Bobby, but..."

"Why not?" my mom asks, handing the card back to Devin. "Isn't this kind of stardom his thing?"

"Yeah, I guess I just wanted to make sure it's real first..." I lie.

Truthfully? I told Rob about it and asked for his opinion. Robert? Nope. I don't know why. Guess I've been feeling like I'm bothering him. Even with our phone call the other night, things are still as spaced out as they were before, and my over thinking does not help, at all.

"Did something happen?" Devin asks quietly, and I raise an eyebrow.

"What?"

"With you and Downey..."

"No, no," I insist. "He's-we're fine. Just a lot going on and it's been hard to find time we can both talk, but hey, I'll be done with this soon, right?"

"I can stop scheduling so many interviews..." Devin offers. "I just thought they'd help promote your music..."

"No, it's okay," I promise. "I'll see him next week at the game, right?"

And he agrees, thankfully. I leave him a voicemail, telling him about it, and inviting he and Jimmy, and he texts me back later on the next day.

TS: YES OF COURSE!

R: That was extremely excited, you good?

TS: Yup, just know how big of a fan you are. ;) And Jim is hyped.

R: figured...and now I get to see you earlier!

TS: Clearing my schedule now...you said Tuesday next week?

R: yup! i'm in indy saturday, though, so i won't be back to PA until sunday night...dev's got me lined up for a full schedule monday

TS: I can get away Monday night. Gonna be a short trip though, got a couple more big scenes to shoot for changes before I head back to LA.

And we set up the plans, which I'm super excited about.

Until Indy comes and goes, and I start packing for the short break. Dave spends the night with me getting a drink and watching the end of game one of the series after the show, and then I head to my room to gather everything for my flight the next day.

And that's when I get Robert's face time request.

I answer it, grinning as I toss my clothes into the bag. "Hey!"

Only when I check the screen, he's laying back in his trailer and he does not look okay.

"Hey," he greets and forces a smile, and I stop what I'm doing instantly.

"What's wrong?" I ask, my nerves getting the best of me.

I feel the panic attack starting. The cool burning creeping up my body, the frantic beat of my heart that I can't control... This is it. This is when he tells me he's leaving, right? Probably. I can just tell by his tone. I wasn't crazy, we haven't been the same, and he's tired of me, tired of us. And that only gets worse when he answers.

"I, uh...how about you sit down for a sec?" he requests, and I nod slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"So I really don't want to do this but-" he begins, but I interrupt, shielding my face as my emotions take over on instant.

"Don't!" I snap, turning away.

"What?" he asks, and he definitely sounds confused.

"Don't you...don't bother, please. I get it, distance sucks, and you don't want to do this anymore, and I should'e realized that earlier, and-"

"Rachel, what the hell are you talking about?" he asks, watching me as I turn back to him with a steady breath and flushed cheeks. "Hon, I'm not breaking up with you."

"You're...you're not?" I stutter, now feeling completely embarrassed, and he shakes his head.

"No...unless you're not telling me something here?"

I hate how confused he sounds, and I want to just crawl into bed and hide and never resurface.

"Are we okay?" he asks next, and I finally exhale and nod, running a hand through my hair.

"Yeah, I just thought maybe you were tired of this phone tag, and..."

"No, not at all," he answers with a smirk. "I just have some bad news... I'm not gonna be able to make it up."

"What, why?" I ask, my heart breaking at that, and he frowns, turning the camera around to focus on his legs, and that's when I realize he's not alone.

He's got a team around him, probing his ankle and snickering at my over reaction and I groan. Embarrassment level? 9000.

"There was a mishap on set, long story short I sprained my ankle and I'm on a no fly list until the swelling goes down," he explains, then turns the camera back on him.

"Oh my God, are you okay?!" I ask, suddenly worried as hell, and he laughs.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just a minor thing. Should only be a week, maybe two, but I'll be good to go by the time we're done here."

"What about reshoots?!"

"I can still do the upper body stuff after a few days. They're gonna try out CGI, I think...we'll see how that goes."

"Do you want me to cancel? Cause I can come down there and help, and-" I offer, and he stops me before I can get any further.

"Nope, you keep on your thing, got me? I'll live, just a sprain," he promises. "Jim's gonna come up still, so he'll be able to hang out with you, okay?"

I nod, sad but understanding. "Yeah, yeah...Are you sure you're okay? What happened?"

"Yeah, just tripped running around with Don on set. Guess that's what I get for trying to do my own stunts," he mutters. "I'm so sorry, babe..."

"It's okay," I sigh. "Only one more week after that, right?"

"Right," he confirms. "Good news is I'll be able to chat a little more in the next couple of days. Bad news, might delay us a few days so I won't get back to LA till a couple days after the tour wraps. But you can use the house, and I'll be in as soon as I can."

"I can stay with my aunt," I tell him. "I'll have Devin and Aero with me..."

"They're touring with you?"

"Yeah, I sort of made Devin my manager...since she's basically been doing it all for me anyway."

"Well, I'm glad you'll have company," he tells me with a smile. "I miss you, pretty girl."

"Miss you, too," I smirk, and God, have I ever been more wrong about reading someone before in my life...

We're fine, everything's fine.


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, let me know what you think please! :)

Despite better judgement, Robert woke up the next morning insisting he was fine and wound up making his injury worse...still not anything major, but he explained to me whatever kind of electrotherapy he's insisting on using, and I know he's not telling me about any pain killers they may or may not have him on, for obvious reasons. But I can tell, because he's never slept more in the time that I've known him than he did while he was being forced into bed rest after that second incident.

It's okay, though. When I get back to Pittsburgh, Devin's got me booked with interviews on Monday. The afternoon is just a bunch of boring print stories, and one for TV for the local news, the sports segment, but those aren't anything outside of the ordinary. But in the morning, I'm on a morning show for a radio station I used to listen to a lot.

"Welcome home!" Shelley greets, and her on air partner, Bubba, adjusts his mic when they come back from a song.

"Is it good to be back?" he asks, and I laugh, agreeing; this is so easy for me now, and the fact that I feel like I know these people from listening to them for so many years does nothing but help.

"It is! I missed it."

"You kinda got pulled from the city, didn't you?" Shelley asks next, and I nod, though the listeners can't hear it.

"Yeah, I uh, well, it kind of came on suddenly. Everything was last minute, but I'm not regretting a single decision."

"So I saw some video," Bubba comments, "and most of the material is your own, obviously..."

"Yes," I confirm.

"And I think it's one called Ghost, right? It's got a kind of...bittersweet feel to it. So do you write on your own experiences, or is it made up?"

"Uh, half and half," I admit. "I kind of...start somewhere I've been and exaggerate on it."

"And I really like Dangerous," Shelley comments. "It's a little...risky," she laughs, and I blush.

"It's uh...yeah..."

"Is it about someone in particular?" Bubba muses and his voice trails up to a higher octave in question and I bite my lip, giving him a scolding look.

"That's a yes!" Shelley laughs.

"It's...maybe, partially..."

"I'm jealous of you, girl," she teases. "And I'm not gonna talk about it forever, but girl to girl, I have to ask...that hair, is it gel, because it looks too soft!"

I can't help but keep laughing, wishing I could prove it this week, but I know he's stuck in Atlanta.

"I don't get what you see in him!" Bubba makes fun of Shelley and I fake gasp.

"Hey!"

"And for those of you who don't know, we're catching up on her...significant other, Robert Downey Jr..." Shelley pushes.

"It's very soft," I confirm. "He doesn't gel it often, to be honest. But it's not too much when he does, so it's still fun to run your fingers through."

"Ah, stop, I'm gonna start playing twenty questions!" she sighs. "So, you're singing the national anthem at the Penguin game tomorrow, are you excited for that?"

"Of course! I packed my jersey and everything."

"Who's your favorite?" Bubba asks.

"Letang. For sure."

"Mine too," Shelley agrees, and Bubba rolls his eyes.

"Do I have to grow a beard?! I feel like I have to grow a beard to fit into this club..."

There's a couple questions about Sting, but they wrap it up to go to commercial, and after the show, they treat me to a nice lunch in their break room, where I continue to gush to Shelley about Robert.

But, it only makes me miss him more, and I'm thankful when Jimmy comes up, because he's able to fill me in on every stupid thing Robert's done since we've been apart, including his prank on Don set and the stupid line dance he made up with Ty while they were dressed in southern attire. He shows me photos of Robert making a dorky face in the jacket with a bandanna, and I can't help but feel sad that I missed it. But oh well, the company is nice.

The two of us are too hyped to go to the arena. It's newly built just a couple years ago, and I've only been to a handful of games since, but I know Jim's gone a bit too often, so he knows his way around the place better than I do. 

Until we get escorted below the stands, and to the locker room, where were introduced to the team and I nearly lose my cool, Jimmy included. A few of them tell us they're fans of Iron Man, which I have to grin and thank them, in Robert's place, and a couple comment on my singing, and I wind up taking a group photo with them, and Jimmy his own, before they have to dress and we're taken to the tunnel, where we wait for the game to start.

Eventually, the teams take the ice to practice skate, and I can feel the excitement course through my veins. The pounding of the music on the arena, the chatter of the fans as they find their seats, the slap of the pucks against the wall and the chilly smell of the ice, if that can even be used to describe a smell... God, I missed coming to games so much.

And then they announce me, and the the lights are dimmed as the ice turns to a flag, and I can hear my voice echo through the silent stadium...until the end, when people join in, and I know I've done well. There's cheering, there's applause, and yeah, most of it's just cause we do that all the time when we're patriotic, but trust me, if I messed it up, they'd let me know.

During my time between Chicago and Dallas after that, I watch the replay of it on TV one night with Robert on the phone. He makes fun of me when they cut to a commercial during the game and the cameras show the box suite seats they gave us, Jimmy and I cheering when a goal is scored. The commentators of course mention that I'm the girlfriend of Tony Stark, and I knew nothing about it until right now, but whatever, I'll take that title!

Devin comes with me to the rest of the shows, and she brings along my long missed furry friend. Aero does pretty well, to be honest. I wasn't expecting much, but he was a good boy in the hotels, and he doesn't mind the buses, either! He spends most of the rides sleeping on the table between Devin and I as we plan out just what the hell to do with my image now that the tour is wrapping. She's been back and forth with the guy from the label, and she isn't quite done with a deal yet, but she's keeping me up to date.. I think I'm also having her set up a website in the meantime, just to make sure that's secure for me.

I've been more interactive with fans online, too. I insisted on keeping Twitter for myself, but gave her access to Facebook and Instagram. I followed back most of the fan accounts I could find, and changed my biography to something quirky: Proud cat mom. Sometimes I sing when I'm not thinking about food. Accurate as hell.

Robert notices a few days later, and we share a short phone call on his plans for coming back to LA. He's wrapping up a few shoots on location, so it's hard to keep in touch with him again, but I've been better, now that Devin's with me. Still, I miss him. 

Devin has me lined up for some big radio shows in LA come the final two shows of the tour. We wind up staying with my aunt again, leaving Aero with her during the day since she's working from home this week. There's a video interview this time for a blog online, and a few more radio stops. The first show nearly mimics opening night with excitement, and I'm beat for the last show in LA on Saturday, but I'm too pumped about finishing the tour strong, and ignoring my emotions...

"Thank you guys, so much for letting me be a part of this..." I speak during my last set on closing night. "I keep thinking....about starting all this six weeks ago, in San Jose, and I had no idea what I wanted to say to you... But now, now, standing here, looking at all of your beautiful faces in this dim space...I just hope you know that I appreciate every single person that's come to say hello to me, that's followed me on Twitter, or sang with me from the floors here..."

And then I turn to the band, partially to stop myself from getting too upset toward the crowd, and partially to focus on them. 

"And how bout a big thank you for the bass, the piano, the drummer..."

And then I'm playing my last song; one I asked Rob if I could cover after he congratulated me on singing the anthem through text. Bright Lights, one of my favorite by Matchbox Twenty themselves, and I hope I do it justice...

And then I take a bathroom break and grab a drink from my room, sighing when I look around and take in this incredible feeling...

But I'm quickly beckoned back to the stage by the crew, and I flash a confused look at Devin, who's standing side stage.

"Sing an encore, Sting wants you to play with him!" she shouts to me as they wire me back up.

"Why now?" I ask.

"Last show, why not?" she yells back, and then I focus on his talking.

"So how about we bring back someone special from earlier... But you all have to give her a super warm welcome, cause this is the last stop for our short tour here..."

I take a breath and try not to be emotional; I've come so far since the tour started. I've developed so much. Everything was thanks to Robert and this man before me. When I first sang with him...everything was completely different. Carefully, I make sure not to fall as I strut back out with a wave to our audience.

"I just wanna say," Sting continues into the mic as he tunes his guitar. "How amazing bringing you out has been." He turns to me with a smile. "Ready?"

When I nod he counts in and drops the tempo, and I count the beats till I come in, enjoying this for the last time...for now. The flashes of lights and cameras, the cheers, the heat...it's all been much more than I ever deserved. Then I'm up and I lift the mic, but it isn't my voice that's dominant, it's the familiar, deep rasp of the one I've only heard over the phone the past six weeks.

I turn as he sings, and in the spotlight is Robert, himself, with that sly smirk plastered on his face. My hand meets my mouth as I turn back to Sting, who's grinning like a banshee, and I know it's set up. Still, I can't help but laugh, not sure if I'm more excited or surprised to see him as my heart beats out of my chest.

He motions for me when his verse ends, so I stumble into it, trying to keep my voice steady, but the happiness is radiating from me. Robert's my only focus, his eyes narrowed but his cheeky smile while he watches me sing. They have that look I love, the dreamy, loving softness that makes me melt. The look I haven't gotten since I said goodbye in New York.

When I finish my verse, he steps up to me, still focused as we do the duet part like the first time we sang, back in Malibu. It's easy and quick and I can barely keep content until we finish that line. Then I'm up and I turn away to make sure I can belt out the bridge, holding my head back and dragging the mic away for effect when I hit it. Then, it's mid song, and thank God, because all I want is to touch him.

The music takes over for a few bars, giving me enough time to turn back to Robert and tackle him with a hug, my arms wrapping tight around his neck. He laughs, holding the mic away as he places a hand in the small of my back, then captures my lips in a sweet hello when I pull back.

"You said you weren't coming back till later this week!" I gasp with a giddy happiness, and he is still grinning back.

"Surprise," he shrugs, barely audible.

Sting's voice interrupts us as I kiss him again, informing the audience of my surprise. "Give a warm welcome to Mr Robert Downey Jr," he breathes into the mic stand. "Who dropped everything to fly home early to surprise his girl here...after six weeks of being away."

But we're sadly forced to detach and finish the song, even though it's killing me not to hug him again. God, he looks even better than I remember, and he's leaning a little bit to one side, probably because of his ankle, but he doesn't seem to show any pain...so it must be on the mend.

"All right, you two lovebirds," Sting jokes when we slowly trail off and the music keeps playing long past our lyrics. "Get outta here and go catch up!"

I grin and wave a last time before exiting the stage, Robert's arm wrapped around my waist as he follows. I pull the ear piece from my ear as the crew grabs for my equipment on my body, a couple doing the same for Robert. We don't make it far from there before we're stumbling into the open hallways below the stadium, his hands running up my back and my lips instantly pressed to his in an open mouth kissed. He groans when my hands tangle in his hair, grinning against my welcome home kiss as crew members who are passing by stare with embarrassment.

"Babe," he breathes, pulling away but still holding me close. "Remind me to surprise you more often."

"I missed you so much," I tell him, looking his face all over like I've never seen it before.

"I missed you too," he chuckles. "You had no idea how hard it was to watch your set and not come find you in between."

"You saw my set?!" I gasp, mouth hanging open in awe. "Oh, God, I'm so embarrassed..."

"Rach, you're insanely talented, stop!" he insists, his dark eyes staring reassuringly. "Now let's go watch the rest of the show and then we can spend some quality time at home, huh?"

I grin and nod eagerly. "I can't wait to show you your welcome home present," I say seductively, running my hands down his chest.

His eyebrow raises as he bites his lip, eyes blazing. "I love you."

"I love you too," I giggle. "Oh, I'm so glad to have you back," I add, more serious, and lean against him in a tame hug, sighing against his chest. "Did you have a good time in Georgia, at least?"

"It was...tiring," he admits. "But never a dull moment."

"How's your ankle?"

"Better," he replies shortly. "Not perfect but good enough."

"Welcome back," I hear next, and turn to see Devin grinning with her arms crossed and her phone in her hand.

"You knew about this, didn't you?!" I accuse, and she shrugs without shame.

"You caught me!"

And she corals me to side stage to watch the rest of the show with her, and I enjoy every second of it. Robert's arms are wrapped around me from behind and I hold onto them as I lean into him, careful not to be too heavy in case he's lying about that injury of his. And I swear time stands still for the rest of the show, because I'm so content, happy in his embrace. Being able to touch him, smell him, feel his breathing on my cheek as he lays his head on my shoulder...it's everything I needed after these past few weeks.

Before we leave, once the lights dim, I'm hugging goodbye to Sting, thanking him over and over again for everything. Next is Dave, who I'm promising to keep in touch with him, since out of all of the band members, he's the one who I bonded with the most.

"Oh, and meet Robert," I tell him, tugging on Robert's hand in mine to pull him up to say hello.

"I've heard a lot about you," Dave tells him, shaking his hand. "I mean, from this one."

"Have you?" he muses, and he smirks at me. "Thanks for keeping her company."

After that, we're headed back into Malibu. Devin and I are stopping to get our stuff and then we're giving my aunt a break, knowing she's probably getting fed up with Aero's games. And then we're migrating to Robert's. He's nice enough to let Devin crash until we figure out what we're doing from here.. I mean, the house is damn well big enough, so we'll still have all the privacy in the world, which we take advantage of once we say goodnight...

I need a shower, so I make a beeline for his bathroom in the master suite as he shows Devin where to find everything. The water's nice, washing away the sweat from the show, but when I rinse my hair and close my eyes, enjoying the warmth on my sore muscles from running around all month, two arms slip back around my waist and I smirk, turning to face him as he joins me.

"God, I missed you," he mumbles, his voice heavy, and my hands immediately go for that soft hair the radio at home teased me about, now wet under the running water.

"You need a haircut," I tease, but he lets his eyes wander to my lips.

"Maybe tomorrow. I'm gonna be a little busy tonight..."

And then he's pressing that familiar mouth against mine, kissing me softly under the water as his arms pull me against him. I gasp, feeling him slowly walk us back until he's pressing my bare back against the cool wall, and he bites my lip before pulling away and nipping at me neck. I can feel him press himself into my leg and I realize how long it's been since we last...

And then I snap out of that when he whimpers a little and shifts on his legs and I break the kiss, giving him that scolding look. 

"You said you were okay," I remind him, and he sighs, frowning.

"I am...but sometimes it's still sore, and I probably shouldn't be putting weight on it in here..." he mumbles.

And it's cute; it's like a puppy, knowing he isn't gonna get his treat, so I stroke his hair some more and chuckle, pressing a quick, soft kiss on his lips, savoring the feel of his mustache and goatee on my skin.

"How about you finish up in here while I get started in the bed?" I whisper, and his eyes darken instantly.

"You're not gonna wait?!" he pouts as I leave him under the water and dry off, and then I'm making my way to the bed, grabbing a condom from his drawer and tossing it on the pillow.

And I swear I barely have time to get under the sheets before he's hobbling out, joining me. I laugh as he pulls the covers aside and drapes them over us once he's lying over me, and then he's back on my neck without question, his big hands skimming my sides and grabbing at my thigh. 

"Impatient," I comment on a breath, and he hums back in agreement.

"Shut up and kiss me," he instructs and I squeal out another laugh as he lets his lips find mine again, his tongue searching mine out without hesitation.

I missed this...missed his taste, missed his body pressed against mine, the way he feels moving against me and the groans he lets go as he rocks us back and forth in the bed. Missed the way he pulls my leg over his hip and how my nails dig into his shoulders without control when he relentlessly thrusts into me, pushing me over the edge. And I missed how he drops into an exhausted heap on my shoulder as he leaves lazy kisses there before cleaning himself up and cuddling me into sleep.

"I'm so proud of you," he whispers finally in the darkness, his hand stroking my hair as I lay my head on his chest and attach myself to his side.

"It's not over yet," I mumble. "Devin has me lined up for one more interview tomorrow."

"You'll do great. And I wanna hear all about everything I missed," he murmurs, then places a kiss on my hair.

I sigh, smiling in content, and close my eyes as I focus on the feel of his hand caressing me into sleep. "Tomorrow?" I ask with a yawn and he laughs softly.

"Of course." Then, after a pause, "this is okay, right?"

"What?" I ask, peeking an eye open.

"Us. We're okay?" he clarifies and I nod, squeezing his torso slightly in an attempt at what is probably the most awkward hug ever. 

"Yeah, I'm sorry, Bobby...I didn't mean to scare you, I just didn't expect it to be so hard to find time when we could both talk and I started to panic, and..."

"We'll work on it," he promises. "I know I suck, I forget to take my phone out a lot. I've never had a reason to keep it on me, you know? Work was work and I only paid attention to it at night."

"It's okay," I reassure quietly. "I was just scared you wanted something else..."

"Never," he answers quickly. "We made it, just like I promised."

But all good things come to an end, right? Well, maybe not all. I'm being dramatic. It isn't Robert and I, relax...it's the tour, ending on a sour note.

The radio station I'm stopping by is one of the biggest in the Los Angeles area, and they're known for their gossip. Aren't they all, out here, though?

I don't think anything of it when we first get to the studio, and the interview starts pretty well, but let me tell you, my temper is flaring by the end.

"So, now we have a special guest sitting down with us, Rachel Thomas," the interview introduces, Ian, I think his name is.

"Hi," I smile after a quick glance at Robert and Devin in the hallway through the glass windows at my side; he insisted on watching. "How are you?"

"Great, but how are you?" he counters. "You just wrapped on your first big tour, how does that feel?"

"I'm still in shock," I answer truthfully. "I think...well, so much has changed since May, but it's still so surreal to me."

He smiles kindly, looking down at his notes. "You seem a lot more comfortable, on stage and in here... A big difference from your first interview, with Jimmy Fallon."

"I am," I agree, though his comment does come off as a little rude to me. "But this isn't TV, either."

"Right," he smirks. "But I also see you have your support system here..."

I glance back at my group again and nod, smiling at them. "I do..." Then, I turn back to the mic. "I assume you're referring to my manager? We've been friends for years, so it's nice having that familiarity around."

"And you're okay mixing work with personal life?" he presses, and that's when things start to go downhill.

"I think it can work," I answer awkwardly, playing with my hands to avoid the nerves that are suddenly returning. "With the right people."

"Is that why you're okay with dating your co artist?" he asks next, throwing me the curve ball I should've known was coming, and I narrow my eyes, trying to desperately think of how to respond.

"I...don't know if co artist really pertains to the same field," I decide on. "He's an actor, I'm a singer."

"Yes, but he was on the track, too," he shoots back.

Now my blood's starting to boil and I'm starting to get irritated. But don't snap, Rachel, don't snap. You have an imagine now. People are listening to you. Kill them with kindness, even if you want to say something else..

"He was," I state confidently. "But it's not his focus. So, to answer your question, I'm okay dating him because we have similar interests and care for each other, regardless of work."

When I look back to the window, Robert's smirking, giving me a look of approval, but I can tell he's getting peeved, too. Maybe he shouldn't have come...

"So even though he's older," Ian starts, and I cut him off.

"What?"

"Well-"

"Does his age have something to do with his personality?" I question, trying to sound innocent with a tone that begs him to bring out my bad side.

"No, no..." he answers, trying to play nice for just a second as he moves back into music questions...very briefly. "So, now that the tour is over, will you be releasing anything new?"

"Like an album?" I ask with a sigh, trying to control my temper. "Maybe. I have some things in the works, but I can't say for sure yet."

"So, what other plans do you have in the meantime?"

"Well...there's a convention in the fall, I'm still going to do some writing, of course...probably spend some time at home."

Wherever home even is at this point.

"You're from the east coast, right?"

"Yes," I confirm, straight and to the point.

"Any plans to move out here, instead?"

"Not as of right now, no," I tell him, and it isn't a lie; I haven't thought about where I'm going to live at all...and I know that needs to happen soon.

"So," he comments, slyly slipping into my breaking point. "Robert's okay with you living so far away?"

"We're discussing it. But I think that's a personal matter for us right now."

But Ian ignores me and keeps to his agenda. "Even with...his name is Charlie, correct? Even with him still in the area?"

 

"What?" I ask, my blood chilling and my heart thumping as I hear the ringing in my ears the same as it had that holiday night.

How did they...well, I guess it's online. But not much of it. Not enough that he could go on a rant about it. Unless...I mean, Charlie's still allowed phone calls, right?

No, I can't assume.

And then I hear Robert yelling from behind the wall, from where they're watching, and it brings me back to reality. Okay. Calm down, breathe. Don't let them beat you at your own game.

"Nope, pull it off the air, she's done," Robert demands, and I look over to see him fighting the staff to get into the room.

I shake my head at him, warning him to stand down, and then snap my attention back to the interviewer.

"I'm not gonna sit here and tell you that's okay. That will never be okay. But I dealt with it, I moved on, and I'm happy now, with my music and my relationship. But I don't want to talk your ear off and I know you have a playlist to get back to... Thank you, by the way, for having me."

And with that I disconnect my mic and let myself out.

Ian stares after me with annoyance on his face, but I really don't care what he's going to tell the public. I was genuinely nice from what they heard...sort of. And Robert's protectively grabbing my hand as he turns to point to the staff in the hall, his finger scolding them in the air.

"This is bullshit and you know it," he snaps.

I squeeze his hand, just wanting to go, and try to bring his temper down.

"Bobby, it's fine," I beg, tugging him toward the exit, and thankfully he follows without another word.

I guess there's a silver lining, though, right? Out of all the interviews I've had, this is the only one that's been bad. And hey, Roberto over here decided to be the most protective boyfriend imaginable, which is kind of cute.

And now, that's over, and I think I'm going to take a break from radio interviews for a while.


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of stuff to say today. Please please please comment and let me know if you guys are still reading. I don't know how this is since it isn't really 'oh my God are they gonna date' anymore. That being said, get ready for a wave of emotions in the near future. Next point: IF YOU ARE IN SC OR NC please be safe and evacuate! The advisory just updated to a category 2, which is better than anticipated, but it's still dangerous! NEXT: Anyone else see that video of Robert on a SCOOTER because I am dying.

I swear that night is the best sleep I've gotten in six weeks, but I'm not surprised. There's something about Robert that calms my nerves...something that is comforting, aside from, well, him. I can't pinpoint it...maybe it's his smell, maybe it's the way he slowly breathes when he's fast asleep and I wake up first...but I never want to leave it again.

Or...maybe it's the cat that's currently curled up in a ball on my front side. I'm sandwiched, with a fur ball in my face and a guy to my back. Not complaining, at all.

"Hey there, pretty boy," I mumble with a smile as I reach out and pat Aero's head.

He purrs as I scratch his cheek and try not to wake Robert, but it's no good. He stirs behind me, his arm tightening around my waist. I can feel his nose bury into the crook of my neck and I tense up into a ball at the tickle of his beard on my skin.

"I prefer sexy over pretty, but I'll take it," he murmurs and I laugh at his half asleep demeanor.

"Not you, the cat," I tell him.

And then I roll over, abandoning Aero for the time being; he's okay, though...he stands and stretches his back and then plops down onto the carpeted floors, traipsing out into the hallway, probably to find his food dish that Devin set up last night.

"Hi," he whispers with a grin and I mirror him, running my arms around his side and up his back.

"Hey..." I sigh, closing my eyes as sleep beckons again, but I refuse to let myself turn on snooze. 

Instead, I focus on the muscles under his arms and groan as I trace his body.

"I missed you so much..." I sigh. "And I missed those dark eyes, and these strong shoulders, and this cute nose..." I rant, brushing the tip of his nose with my thumb before cupping his cheek and he shows his teeth again. 

"Keep going," he requests, cocky as ever, but I just laugh it off. 

"How are you feeling?" I question, remembering his ankle...honestly, last night probably wasn't the best decision.

"Great," he smirks. "Everything's perfect."

"It is," I agree and close my eyes, content and relaxed.

After a moment, I feel his soft, warm lips press against mine, and then his arm snakes around my waist and pulls me against him. I smile against him, but run my hands over his shoulder blades again and have no problem kissing him back, enjoying the slow, lazy way his tongue slips into my mouth. He's gentle, probably still asleep to an extent, but he's not shy about making his excitement known under the sheets.

"Hello to junior too," I grin against his kiss and I can feel his lips tug up as he hums and rolls us over so I'm lying flat on my back again. "Bobby! What are you doing?!"

I break the kiss and he lets his kisses find their way down my jawline instead as he grunts into my shoulder, his hands now roaming curves.

"Making love to my girlfriend," he mumbles and I bite my lip as I hug his torso.

"Again?!"

"Mhmm...it's been six weeks, I have needs..."

I roll my eyes to myself in a playful spirit and sigh. "You're lucky I love you."

"That means you think I'm hot, huh?" he jokes, waking up a little more; I can tell by his attempt at a joke.

"Eh, you're okay..." I tease and he immediately pushes himself off me me, looking at me with fake hurt.

"Take that back."

But I can't tease him any more, I'd feel bad. "Yes, you're hot," I laugh as he smirks and goes back to kissing. "And sexy and handsome and-"

"Babe, stop talking," he requests and I think that's the first time hes ever been serious about not petting his ego.

He's not shy about giving instructions at all - quite the opposite from last night with his needy urgency. But he's quick to lower himself until he's kissing above my abdomen and my hands are tangled in his hair as he dips below the sheets and his breath leaves me squirming, writhing against the mattress as he teases me. And fuck, is he good at it; good at those feathery touches, those light ghosting kisses, the slow, antagonizing tracing right around where I want him. And it drives me nuts until I accidentally tug at his hair to pull him closer and he laughs.

There's pressure at my hips as he pushes me back into place, and he's almost scolding.

"Stay still," he orders, and I bite my lip, trying to focus on not moving.

It's not fair at all, and he knows he's got me as he drags the tip of his finger around the inside of my thigh. And then there's the light touch of his tongue that makes my upper body jerk, but he holds me down with success.

"Not funny!" I snap when he chuckles and kisses the inside of my thigh where his finger was.

"It's a little funny."

"It's not, it's-oh, my God..." I groan when I feel his mouth on me for real this time, done with his few seconds of playing around. "Fuck..."

It's different than Charlie. Different than him holding me there. Because I know Robert will stop. And, well, let's be honest, not like Charlie wanted to give much, anyway...

Either way, the fact that he's not letting me move from his grasp is torturous all in it's own. I know he's not going to stop until he pushes me over the edge, and I know there's nothing I can do about that...in theory. And that's what's going through my head the entire time he's working his tongue, until I finally toss my head back as my muscles contract and he resurfaces, a content smirk on his face as he takes in my afterglow.

"Sex looks great on you," he jokes, and I roll my eyes.

"Only sex with you. If it was someone else, you'd take that back," I breathe, and blindly reach for the drawer to my side.

"Um, yeah," he confirms. "There's not, though, right?"

And then I toss the condom at him and he presses his brow together as it smacks him on the shoulder and falls to the bed.

"Babe," I mock, using his words from earlier. "Stop talking."

He loses the demanding side from there on. Instead, he's focused on slow, steady movements. His eyes watch between us as he establishes a pace, and then flicker back up to me. And it's languid, it's gentle, and the way he connects his eyes with mine for the greater part of everything gives me chills; that caring look softening them, the same look he'd give me on too many other occasions while we were still flirting back and forth. Eventually I pull him down to kiss him, and when he nears his release he's a little more jagged and rushed with his pace, and next thing I know I'm dressing in his shirt from the night before, accompanying him to the kitchen in search of breakfast.

I plop myself up on the counter as he goes through the cabinets, frowning when he doesn't find anything good.

"I probably should've ordered groceries..." he mutters, then turns back to me with a guilty side smirk. "Starbucks?"

I only smile at him and open my arms to pull him in until he stands between my legs hanging off of the counter and leaves his palms on my hips. My arms fit nicely on his shoulders as I play with his hair at the base of his neck.

"Whatever you want. I'm just happy to be here," I tell him. 

"We'll stop at the store on the way back," he decides. "Stock up for the week...if you're staying."

"I mean, I'm gonna go home eventually to see my mom, but I have some time..."

I can't help but want to kiss him again, so I'm pulling him in for a sweet kiss before we're interrupted.

"Is it safe to look?!" I hear Devin ask and I pat down Robert's shirt as she wanders into the kitchen and replaces Aero's water dish. "You know, people eat on those counters."

"You've literally never been in this house before," I snort.

"She's not wrong," Robert smirks and I sigh, giving up.

"We're gonna go to Starbucks," I tell her.

"Yeah, you have no food," she informs us. 

"Were you going through my fridge?" Robert asks and she shrugs. 

"Had to do something while you two were going at it."

I feel my cheeks burning and advert my gaze as she laughs at my embarrassment.

"We weren't-" I start, building the lie, but she places her hands on her hips and scolds me with her eyes.

"You both look and smell like sex," she points out. "You might wanna get cleaned up before you go out in public."

She's right - Robert's in a t shirt and boxers and his hair is a mess...and still long. And me wearing nothing but his shirt doesn't help matters, either.

So, we get dressed and I put on makeup...but still keep his shirt, not caring what people think. This is Malibu, right? Right. Plus..Devin so kindly tells me on our way out that the internet is just loving my argument with the radio yesterday. Great. Six weeks of fame and I'm already making mistakes...

"It's fine," Robert insists from the driver's seat as I scroll through Twitter; we took the Audi and his hand's on the gear shift, so I am fully attentive to my phone.

"It's not," I pout. "They hate me."

"It'll pass as soon as someone else does something stupid...or as soon as I do something stupid. Give me like an hour and I'll steal the spotlight back."

"No!" I argue playfully. "No more drama, please."

Devin makes a Starbucks run for us, since neither of us feel like putting up with fans until we've had coffee. God, I sound so stuck up, don't I? Adjusted to his lifestyle like it's normal. It isn't. I mean, I still haven't experienced most of it. Just the fans, and the little taste of the carpet, but we weren't an item then. Now...damn, now we're gonna get attacked with questions.

"Hey when did you say that award show was?" I ask next, completely switching topic. 

"Uh, two weeks. Why?"

"I gotta buy a dress.." I mumble and he shakes his head as he parks at the organic store.

"Nope, you'll go in for a fitting with me when they line up my suit."

"But-"

"No buts, just go with it."

I roll my eyes as I get out and Devin hops the seat, joining us as we walk hand in hand to the small grocery store.

"I feel like the third wheel..." she says with fake disgust and Robert grabs her hand too to humor her.

"There, now I've got two wheels!" he celebrates and she tugs it back. 

"No! Now you're a pimp, there's a difference."

"That would imply you're good enough to be one of the great Downey's girls," I tease, sticking out my tongue and she lets her nose scrunch up in annoyance.

"If you weren't famous now I'd totally be mad."

"I'm not," I laugh. "He is."

There's some glances as we shop, but I'm not sure if it's because I'm silently gagging at everything Robert's putting into our basket...organic is not my thing...or if it's cause right after that, I dump two gallons of ice cream, some mac n cheese, and chicken nuggets in. Yeah, they're both even to be honest. Or, it's just cause he's Robert Downey Jr just casually shopping...

"That is extremely unhealthy," he comments with a raised eyebrow and I blink, replying with a straight face.

"Robert, there's something you need to know about me...if I die, it's going to be from food. I will never give up food."

He rolls his eyes as I'm dramatically defending myself, but then he's approached by a fan who asks for a photo with him so I take it willingly. Devin's off getting something or other from the fruit aisle, so while they chat I window shop on the shelf with the donuts...until he wraps his arms around me and lays his chin on my shoulder and pulls me away.

"No donuts."

"But-"

"Nope."

"Bobby-"

"Rachel," he counters. 

"Fine..." I grumble, but grab a package of Oreos on the way to check out. "Then I'm trading for these."

I insist on paying when we check out; I have the money now, I can afford some groceries...and I don't want this to be an expense for Devin, even if I've been paying her a nice sum under the table for the last few weeks.

"You want to drive home?" he asks when we're loading up the car and I hesitate.

"Uh, well, funny story, really..." I admit, shamed to say this. "I kinda don't...know how to drive a stick..."

"You have a bike," he comments, not believing me, and I shrug.

"It's a little different..."

He narrows his eyes and then jumps in the driver's side anyway, starting the car. "I'll teach you then. After lunch."

That's terrible idea number one. Number two comes when we put everything away and have a snack for lunch and then he asks for my help in the bathroom. But don't get the wrong idea, it's not sexual..not this time.

"Please?" he begs like a puppy with the electric shears in his hand. 

"You have a team for shit like this!" I protest and he pouts.

"But I just need a trim."

"I don't know how to cut hair!" I stammer back, but it's a lie...I used to do it for Charlie.

He shoves the tools in my hands anyway and sits on the chair he's pulled in. "Come on, it'll be fun."

"Why right now?!"

"Because I need a haircut and what else are we doing?"

"I could think of a million different things..."

"Then while you're ranting them off to me, we can do this."

I grumble, giving in, and put the right shield on it. "This is a terrible idea."

"I'm full of em today," he shoots back, grinning.

So I turn on the sink and wet down my hand before standing behind him and running it through his longer dark locks, smirking at the tinge of gray at his temple. But he doesn't care...he closes his eyes and relaxes into the touch, apparently soothing to him.

"Do you realize how many people worship your hair?" I remind him before I take for the shears and he shudders when I stop toying with his head.

"I trust you."

"I warned you.." I mutter under my breath, then tilt his chin up. "Look up."

And then I go to work only cutting off a little bit; I like his hair fluffy, even though he still looked good with a buzz that one time... But it's distracting...his eyes are flickering between my chest and my face, smirking suggestively as their chocolate color dances with humor.

"So tell me about the trip," he requests, staring up at the ceiling as my hand holds his chin in place.

"I mean, I told you the important parts..." I answer, focused. "Dave and I hung out most of the time you were busy. Well, until Devin joined..."

"I'm sorry about missing the game," he comments next, skipping to a new topic.

I press my lips together and finish the ends on top of his head, then tilt it back down and he frowns, not being able to watch me anymore unless he looks in the mirror.

"See, it looks fine," he tells me, but I inhale sharply with wide eyes before diving back in.

"It's okay...about the game," I say, ignoring his comment. "Jimmy and I had a good time."

"He likes you, you know."

"Oh yeah?" I ask, not entirely believing that. "Says who?"

"Says him," he assures me. "Told me how great you are representing me..."

"Oh," I huff, "so I'm like your agent now, am I?"

It's a joke, and he knows it.

"And the best one around!" he says lightly with a wide grin and I smirk and shake my head in amusement. "No, he just said you're very kind and professional when they say something about Iron Man, so thank you."

"Someone has to be the opposite of you," I joke; we both know how eccentric and out of the box he is in the public eye.

"You like it," he presses happily.

"I do," I confirm. "But you're a handful..."

"And you thought dating me would be easy..."

"I had a lot of misconceptions," I tell him as I meet his eyes in the mirror, smirk still holding as I turn his head to the side. "Turn... But we balance each other out."

"You complete me," he sighs dramatically, repeating Tony's words to Pepper from the deleted Iron Man 2 scene.

"Okay, Tony..."

He raises his eyebrows, quite for a moment while he watches me work. I can tell he's thinking...he gets that intense look in his eyes when he's thinking. And usually when he comes up with an idea, he makes it happen, so I'm a little scared. Case and point, this haircut.

Then, finally, he speaks up again. "So...wanna have dinner tonight?"

But I'm feeling cocky...maybe he's wearing off on me. "I try to have dinner every night, it's good for your health..."

"Smart ass," he snaps. "I'm asking you on a date."

I just press my lips, waiting for him to actually get to the action.

"There's a place on Sunset that I can get us a quick res at any time..." he suggests, and that does sound amazing.

Hollywood, Sunset...I'd never even dream of going to places down there before. But this is my life now. Completely different. Thrilling. Crazy. Busy... But it's okay, because the important thing isn't that I feel needed or accomplished...it's that I feel loved for once. So I'll adjust...and try not to lose that part of me that still thinks hundred dollar meals are ridiculous.

"I would love to," I smile back, turning his head to the other side. "But, what about Devin?"

"Right..." he muses, and he's pondering something. "Well, we could invite Jimmy. Double date?"

I nearly snort in laughter, shaking my head with enthusiasm. "No, no, no. The two of them?! Scratch that...her with him?! You know how crazy she can be."

"She's...jovial. Same as me."

"Wow, big word," I smirk. "Look down..."

"Hey, I know words, despite what you think. Just cause I went to jail doesn't mean I didn't educate myself."

And he's joking with a good attitude, I know. He doesn't talk about those things much, but he's never been shy of embracing the fact that it happened. SNL, a couple interviews... 

"I know you're smart, baby, don't worry," I congratulate lightly, kissing his forehead after lifting his head again. "There."

"Perfecto!" he announces, running his hand through it to get the loose pieces shaken out, and then he turns and give me a quick kiss on the cheek, taking the shears back to pack up in his drawer. "See, knew you could do it."

"Next time, you're calling your guy," I scold, and he chuckles lightly.

"So..." he continues, going back to the dinner conversation. "We'll just have a friendly dinner out. It isn't really a romantic place, anyway. Just nice dining. But if he comes, she won't feel bad when I make sure the rest of the place knows you're mine."

I tilt my head with that same look he's come accustomed to and he grins cheekily, squeezing his eyes shut in the process like a child.

"Just friends!" I insist. "Don't plan on setting them up, Cupid."

"Okay, okay..."

And that's terrible idea number three.


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for IronPalisade for giving me the idea of the upcoming chapter! <3 Btw, you're kicking school's ass so be proud of that!
> 
> Also, I'm adding bonus content whenever I have it...at the bottom of the chapter here I have a random short scene I wrote and never got to add in because it just didn't make sense with plot. Extremely out of context, SO, enjoy that.

To be honest, I'm a little happier than not about dinner not being a huge ordeal. I know he wanted it to be something special...a first date in months, the only time he's actually formally asked me to dinner. But that doesn't matter to me...I just want to hang out with him and I'm happy. It's weird, isn't it? Normal relationships require courtship. But I guess this was never normal, and we were never normal, individually... He did warn me about that when we first decided to be a couple...

Anyway, that afternoon he tries to teach me how to drive his car in the big driveway even his California home has. It's awkward at first, but we wind up having the best time. The simple things, you know?

"Breaks, breaks, breaks!" he squalls, holding onto the dash.

But I'm totally fucking with him at this point. I know what I'm doing and it wasn't hard to pick up after gear shifting a crotch rocket.

So I lightly slow down, proving that, and shift lower until we stop back in front of the garage.

"Will you relax?!" I laugh and he shoots me a wide eyed glare.

"You're dangerous. They shouldn't even give you a license. PA must just hand them out."

"Pretty much," I agree. "Calm down, I know how to do it now, I'm just messing with you."

"Just...make sure it's in park," he grumbles like a child and I roll my eyes, turning off the engine.

"I bet I get us there in record time tonight," I challenge.

He lifts his eyebrow in amusement, not denying me. "Oh yeah? It's downtown LA. You might eat your words."

"We'll see!" I grin and he's staring at my back when I pass and head inside, stopping to turn and stick my tongue out briefly.

And damn if he isn't on my side by the time we leave the house; Jim's come over and he and Devin are in the backseat, holding on for dear life, but Robert's encouraging me like a nut and it's a surprise we haven't been pulled over. Not because I'm a bad driver, but because if you let me into NASCAR, I'd make the rest of them look bad right now.

"Go around," Robert sighs, waving his hand in the air. "This guy can't drive."

"Don't encourage her!" Devin scolds from the backseat and then Jimmy's next to pipe in, looking out the window with his chin on his hand.

"They're the same person, she's not gonna listen," he tells her as if he's already accepted potential death. "They're definitely made for each other."

"How many times have I told you we're gonna be fine and we end up being fine?!" Robert snaps and I smirk.

It's all playful banter, and it makes me giggle like a child the rest of the way there, not being as aggressive of a driver.

Dinner goes over well, with a few sneaked snaps from people dining there as well. It's kind of normal now...kind of. There's nothing I can do about it, and it's fine. I just hope they don't catch Robert's hand on my thigh the entire night, and rather sneak photos of him pulling me into his side to lean against him as we chat and wait for the bill. Devin and Jimmy get along. Friendly, but that's really it. I guess it was a good idea, though, since they'll probably be around each other a lot now that Devin's working for me.

I guess...these things aren't really panicking me anymore, you know? Which is a good thing. A very good thing. Having him hold my hand when we go out, falling asleep in his cuddle without my heart beating out of my chest...not that it doesn't, because I haven't forgotten what's happened for even a second, but like I said before..it's just Robert now. Not RDJ, just Robert. My Robert, and that's it. It's funny, because every once in a while I'll look at the paparazzi photos of him that appear online and it throws me off, telling myself that that's who I'm dating. Kind of that little reminder, that little hint of fan girl that's still hanging out.

Part of me still doesn't get it. And I guess that comes with the sense of insecurity Charlie left in me. Every now and then I'll have one of those nightmares, but it's been better since telling off that Ian guy during that interview.

But after we have a pool day with Devin the following day, the four of us have movie night in the living room, and order Chinese in. And that's when the next one hits.

There were only maybe one or two that I didn't tell Robert about while I was gone; one that happened after I got wind of someone being arrested in the crowd in Chicago for being disruptive...who was later released...and one one of the first nights when I realized it was just me, alone, and Bobby was way too far away to help in real time.

I wind up falling asleep under a blanket with him, his hand teasing my hair as I layed on my side against his chest and focused on it. I don't think he noticed he was doing it, and that makes me feel even better about this thing we have. Jimmy even said we're made for each other, right? So weird, considering I never would've met him as just a fan if it wasn't for my family...but I guess these things work in odd ways.

And that's when I jolt awake, before the movie ends, and everyone's eyes land on me, confused as hell. Robert knows; he's quickly securing his arm around me, holding me still and tight, and muttering for my to calm down into my hair, so they don't hear. But Devin looks at me with concern as I grab his arms and take a deep breath, and Jimmy's quiet but observes. I dismiss myself after that, taking for the bathroom, and there's a very long, hard look at myself in the mirror.

I open the cabinet to grab a clean towel to flush my face with some cold water, already familiar with where he keeps everything, and then I take the opportunity to snoop on what he's been hiding from me. He's been okay on his ankle, but I know it can't be healed yet, and he won't tell me what he's taking...

So I grab the bottle, reading the label for a second before I hear him clear his throat somewhere next to me. I don't have time to put it down before Robert joins me, leaning against the door frame to let me have some space.

"You told me you weren't taking anything," I start, and he doesn't move.

"Just the equivalent of Advil. Wanna put the bottle down?"

I sigh, doing as told, with annoyance in my movement. "I'm fine, Robert. I can be around Advil. ...is that why you didn't tell me?"

"I'm only taking them in the morning when it's stiff. Didn't need to bring it up."

I hate how cold he's being, so I easily snap back. "So you don't trust me?"

"I do, I just think-"

"Well, you're thinking wrong," I interrupt, then grab the edges of the sink counter top and lean my head down in frustration. 

He must notice that as well, because he sounds much looser when he finally speaks again, giving the both of us a few seconds to breathe.

"Wanna call it a night?" he asks softly, but I shake my head.

"No, you go visit. I'll be okay."

But he doesn't leave.

"You still get them, huh?" he asks delicately and I push myself away from the counter and nod, my lips twitching down as I shamefully admit that.

"There's like this part of me that knows, just knows, after a year, they're gonna let him out...and then what?" I tell him.

"Then you stick with your boyfriend who has world class security because he's a famous actor," he teases, smirking, but I know part of him is actually serious.

I can tell in his eyes. They're warm, light enough to show those specks of dark brown that hide on their underside. And they're still my favorite feature, dark eyelashes and all, and I'm forced to smile, moving to wrap my arms around his torso and lean into him.

He pushes himself off the door frame, giving room for his arms to encircle me, and then his deep voice is rumbling off my head from where his chin lies.

"You've seen too many horror movies," he tries to assure me. "Nothing's gonna happen."

"And when he finds out I really am dating you?" I mumble, knowing how much Charlie hated Robert before.

"He probably already knows, honestly. Jail keeps you in, yeah, but where he is they probably still have the news."

"My convicted hero..." I sigh dramatically, and like a sport, he takes it as a joke.

"Yeah, yeah...sometimes I forget how long it's been."

"You've come a long way," I agree.

"I'm sorry," he says next, and I let my hands stroke his lower back. "I know I have lapses every now and then and I feel like if I had it in front of me I might cave. And I don't want to see that happen to you."

"You're injured," I tell him. "It's okay to have them, Bobby. I'm not gonna take anything. Why would I need to?"

"Well, for one, to cure the nightmares..." he suggests, and I shake my head against him.

"I have you for that..." I whisper.

I feel his lips press against the top of my head and I focus on the steady beat of his heart from under his shirt, enjoying the warmth radiating from him. And then...

"He can't get out till April, you know..." I venture. "You think we'll still be together then?"

"Confident," he confirms. "Very confident."

I don't answer, but there's a smile on my lips as I think about that scenario, hoping it may be true...because so far, everything is perfect.

We make plans for the rest of the week; Devin and I want to spend the day together tomorrow, since Robert has a meeting to go to in Burbank, and then we have a beach day and dinner with my aunt and uncle, and two free days after that. I plan on heading back with Devin after the awards in a couple weeks or so to get some stuff set up for the future of my music, including a phone call with that record label, and maybe a few local interviews, if I'm feeling up to it. 

But the shopping day turns into more of a surprise to Robert than I anticipated, because I make a spontaneous decision to do something stupid while we're out, inspired by his not so fancy haircut that I gave him a few days back.

"You're uh, you're a brunette again," he comments, stunned when I walk into the kitchen where he's focused on making dinner.

I got rid of the bangs and dyed it back to my natural color from the caramel color it's been since spring. It feels good. It feels like I'm me again, not the person who was a nervous wreck during the court case, or the me that missed him too much when I thought we weren't speaking... 

"I needed a change..." I try. "Do you not like it?"

He shakes his head quickly. "No, no, I love it, actually. I told you brunettes are my type, didn't I? Not that you didn't look good before, you always look good..."

I laugh as I set my bag down and come to steal a bite of the salad he's putting together. "I was tired of the lightness. Everyone has it now, since it's warmer..."

"And you're in LA," he jokes. "Everyone's fake blond."

"It wasn't that light," I insist. "But that's an idea for next time!"

Devin joins us for dinner, as usual, at my aunt and uncles the next day, after spending the day with Robert and I on the beach. And let me tell you, having people sneak photos of us together on the sand? Not a problem to me at all. Because he's got his shirt off, a pair of teal swim trunks on, and nothing but that necklace of his and his sunglasses on top, and right now, that's mine. Not like the time we attempted paddle boarding, but actually mine.

We aren't too handsy, because why would we be with Devin there? We can wait till another time. And even though he's big on PDA through kisses and holding my hand, there's still that private side to him that doesn't want to show off too much.

We drive up to my aunt's after rinsing off at his place, and that's when my uncle gifts us tickets to the Dodgers game the next day. They have a box, surprised? Yeah, me either. But he's out of town and can't go, so instead of giving them to someone a work, he figured he'd ask if I wanted them first, since they're playing my team - the Pirates. But don't call them "my" team, please. I mean, I want them to be, but there's a certain level of disgrace that comes with being a Pirate fan these days...and even the home city is starting to get fed up with their usual ways of trading and early season exit.

Anyway, since it's a box, Dev and Jim tag along, and we spend the night looking out over the window side, watching intently. Jimmy's on one side, Robert on my other, but Devin's schmoozing with the business partners that have come from my uncle's work, doing her usual routine to gain contact...which is why I hired her. Good thing she isn't a big sports person.

Later on, thanks to the internet, I find out that the broadcast showed a close up of us watching, me saying something to Robert as he nods in agreement, hands folded in front of his mouth as he watches a pitch. They list our names under the video, as if no one knows who he is, but I love it. I didn't realize it, but he's wearing the same beaded bracelet he had on in the first photos I posted a while back...our hands together. And the fans are tearing that one apart...in a good way.

But the second half of the game wasn't as fun for me. About the sixth inning Robert gave me his jacket, after I voiced how chilly I was. And it's the end of June. This shouldn't be a problem in California. But I refuse to believe it's anything more than just under dressing, in just my light jersey and a pair of shorts. Probably should've planned for night attire...

I take a hot shower and sleep like a rock that night, waking up to an empty bed but the smell of coffee in the kitchen which eventually lures me out. Robert's listening to Devin rant about a guy she met at the game, apparently a media assistant for a production company that works with Ellen, mostly, and they've been exchanging messages all night. 

"I feel like I've probably met him before," Robert tells her. "I just don't remember names."

"I'll get a picture..." she answers, focused on her phone.

"Why didn't you introduce us last night?"

"I dunno, you guys were having a good time, and Rach-"

"Rach is alive," I grumble, sleepily coming into the room and going toward the coffee pot. 

"Good morning," Robert smiles and I hum in response; still not a morning person. "You look..."

"What?" I ask, and when I turn my head I feel a little dizzy...but it's probably just vertigo from jumping out of bed.

"Come here," he instructs, and I grab my now full cup and comply, standing before him as he puts the back of his hand against my forehead. "You feeling okay? You're a little flushed and you're warm."

"I'm fine," I promise, and Devin rolls her eyes.

"If she's sicks she's not gonna admit it until it kicks her in the ass," she tells Robert and I shoot her a disgusted look...that's not true...maybe.

"I'm not sick!" I insist, and he sighs. 

"Just take it easy, then, okay? Just in case."

"I'll be fine," I repeat. "So what's on the agenda today?"

"Well, if you're still up for it, I have a suit fitting with my stylist. Not the ones from New York, but my usual girl, Jeanne. We can get them to design you a dress."

"You sure that's okay? I can just buy something."

"Not for an award show like this," he argues. "Not that I care, but I don't want them getting on you about it."

"Okay, okay," I give in.

The way to the office downtown is a little rough on me; I keep the window open, needing the cool air, but still refuse to admit I'm not feeling well. I've got some pressure in my head, and I'm hoping it's just allergies...it'll pass in a few hours, just gotta power through it.

And everything's fine...until I go into a sneezing fit when Robert watches them take my measurements after going over a few dress designs with me. We decide on something that I would never normally wear...a gray blue floor length dress with a laced bodice and half sleeves, and a flowing chiffon skirt. It's elegant, yet young, and I'm actually excited...not to mention Robert's going to be wearing Navy, something to compliment. We're going to be a real couple, and it thrills me.

He looks at me with concern as I assure him again that it's just allergies, and then after everything's done and they go to work on creating the masterpieces over the next few days, we head back to Malibu, grabbing dinner on the way back. 

I fall asleep on the couch again, back to being freezing, and clinging to Robert's side under a blanket as they finish up dinner. I don't know how I knocked out, I just did. And when I wake, they're cleaning up, the lights dimmed, and he's mumbling to her as they carry the empty boxes and glasses back to the kitchen.

"I'll get her some water and take her to bed..." he tells her as I sit up and rub my eyes.

"She's not gonna accept it until she can't move," Devin reminds him, and then there's a clanking of glasses in the sink making my head hurt. "She's stubborn."

"I'm not," I argue, and Robert turns back to me with a raised eyebrow as I push myself off the couch, the blanket still draped over my shoulders like a cape. "I'm fine, I'm just tired..."

"Babe, you slept half the night," he frowns, and I pad barefoot over to them to refill my glass with water myself.

"I'm fine," I say yet again, leaning against the fridge as I push it to the water dispenser and watch it fill.

I'm not sure what comes over me, but suddenly Robert's grabbing the glass from my hands, handing it to Devin, and his hands steady my shoulders. I feel dizzy again, and don't remember losing hold of it, but he reacted too quick...I must've let it go.

"Okay, you're on bed rest," he instructs and I groan, but for once, accept it.

My body just wants to shut down and I'm still exhausted, but I don't want to be a bother and I don't want to get him sick, either. 

Devin's surprised when I nod and he leads me down the hall back to his room...our room? I don't really know. I could sleep in a guest room. I should tell him that.

"I can use the spare-" I start as he pulls back the sheets and sits me down on the mattress, shaking his head.

"Nope. Sick or not, you're staying with me."

"But you're gonna catch it," I groan, and he laughs lightly.

"Ah, so you do admit that you're sick?"

"No," I stumble, looking up at him with drooping eyes. "I'm just tired. But you guys won't accept that, so-"

"You're sick," he smirks. "Lay down."

"It's June," I argue. "People don't get sick in June!"

"Not usually," he agrees, "but that doesn't mean it'll never happen."

And he's right. As he pulls the covers over me I'm barely able to keep my eyes open, shivering like a ghost and yet hot as hell at the same time. 

Great...I'm sick.

.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.

BONUS DELETED SCENE:   
"What is this?!" I laugh out loud when I finally wander onto the set with coffee in hand.

It's been a long night and it's only just getting started, so I find myself a seat next to Gwyneth on the side. She isn't filming tonight, but I guess she's bored enough to watch without the kids here, so here we are.

"I like him this way," she comments matter-of-factly. "Less annoying."

"I am not annoying," he argues, and I only snort in response, making half the set laugh.

I set the cup down on the floor next to the chair and watch as they restrain him against a metal bed frame, vertical, for a later scene of the movie. He's got a fake blood stain and scratch across the bridge of his nose and a casual hoodie on. Somehow, he still looks good.

"You remember that the next time you want me to pay for dinner," he scolds me, trying to point with one hand since he can't move it.

"How long can we leave him like this?" I tease when I stand and wander up to him as they tie down his other wrist.

He pouts playfully, and I can't help but grin when the crew members laugh in agreement.

"Just a couple scenes, then we gotta get him down," one of the younger guys tells me. "Unless you have something else in mind."

"Oh, she does," he smirks, and the guy blushes...and so do I.

I raise and eyebrow as a defense and cross my arms over my chest. "You are definitely not in the best situation to be making fun of me."

"Making fun of?" he asks innocently. "Never."

"Mhmm," I hum, "just be lucky they got to tie you up and not me."

His eyes flare at my comment, which makes me smile wider and bite my lip.

"Sorry, guess we took your job," the other guy smirks suggestively. "But feel free to check these if you want...we're all good here!"

I laugh again and relax, setting my hands on my hips as I shake my head at my ridiculous boyfriend. He watches me intently, eyes narrowed slightly. I can tell he's waiting, but we're on set, so I can't do anything too inappropriate.

Still, I decide to tease him and run my hand up his chest, watching him inhale sharply and fidget under my touch.

"Rach, I have to film," he protests, squirming when I lean up and place a kiss on his cheek. "Not the time or place for a hard on."

I roll my eyes at his comment, but back down and smile thoughtfully. "I think we should borrow these for later..."

He groans softly and shifts himself on his feet, trying to readjust without his hands while I wander back to the chairs on the side, proud of myself for torturing him. I know he'll give it right back later, though.


	48. Chapter 48

You would think that something that developed in a day would go away quickly, but nope! This one's sticking around...for the better part of three days.

Day one.

I wake up the same as when I fell asleep, feeling hot but shivering just the same. I'm on my side, curled up in a ball, and the blankets pulled over me. And it's then when I realize Robert's still trying to sleep, himself, and when I groggily roll over, he's gotten the blanket from the couch and draped it over himself; shit, guess I hogged the blankets...

And then to make matters worse, I sneeze quite a few times, turning myself away from him first. But it wakes him up, his brow pressed together before he stretches and blinks his eyes open.

"Sorry..." I mumble, and my voice is quiet and fatigued and a little nasally from the stuffy nose I now have. "I'm gonna move to the guest room, go back to bed..." I decide, but he's holding me down...as if I'm trying to exert any energy in the first place...and shaking his sleepy head.

"No, it's fine, I was up."

"No you weren't..." I mumble and he smirks into the pillow. 

"Rach, just stay in bed. Rest."

I sigh but nod, tugging the blankets further over myself to try to rid this chill.

"How are you feeling?" he asks after a moment and a yawn and I sigh.

"Same as last night. Freezing. Tired," I admit.

"Let me uh...let me go get a shower and I'll bring you some orange juice, okay?" he offers, deciding to pull himself out of bed.

"But we didn't buy any-" I start but he grumbles and hushes me with a wave of his hand.

It's cute, honestly...how grumbly he is in the mornings. You never would think, with how chipper and eccentric he can be. But he's never in like a bad mood, don't get me wrong, it's just not fully awake.

But low and behold, if he doesn't come back with orange juice a little while later...

"Where did you get this?" I ask, forcing myself to finally sit up and take a sip, and he sits on the edge of the bed, hand resting on my thigh through the sheets.

"Went to CVS," he tells me, momentarily patting Aero with his other hand, who's joined me at my side at some point.

"What?!" I ask, shocked and now more energetic now that I'm awake. "Robert, water is fine, you didn't have to go out just for-"

"I got you soup, too. And tissues. And cold medicine, which I'll let you have only under supervision and only because you're shaking like a leaf. Usually I'd just recommend some herbs and tea..."

I give him a straight face at that last part and take another drink. "That's sweet and also extremely condescending."

"Hey, I would expect worse if you ever had me in a situation with anything again..." he points out. "Just making sure you're okay."

"I'll be fine..." I manage, then sneeze a few more times and he raises an eyebrow.

"I'm gonna call in my doctor, get you looked at," he decides, then extends a hand to recheck my temperature. "You're burning up."

"It'll go away," I insist. "I don't even know where I got this from, we didn't do anything around people..."

"You were meeting fans every other night," he points out. "And your body probably isn't used to this constant travel and change."

"I'm gonna get you sick..." I frown, giving him puppy dog eyes as I use both hands to drink the orange juice again.

"I don't get sick," he smirks, and I roll my eyes. "Seriously. Don't worry."

He gets the doctor in later that afternoon, after I've gone back to bed. Devin stops in just before that appointment, asking me my thoughts on what I want to do once we get back to Pennsylvania.

"So this guy," she says, bringing up her tablet and showing me the info she has on the Eclipse rep, "is legit. I just need to know if you want to pursue and what you'll settle for at the lowest and I'll negotiate something out."

"I know nothing about anything," I sigh.

"Right, which is why I had Robert give me some pointers," she grins. "While you were sleeping...So I think even if we get this EP on next to nothing, it'll be worth it."

"Not like I'm doing anything better..." I admit. 

"But that's not gonna include photos and you need to register your songs before you give them rights so they stay yours..."

"So use some of the earnings from the single and we'll do it. I have more than enough for my bills at home in the mean time..."

"Can you work on material for like eight songs?" she asks next and I feel like it'll be easy...right?

"I think so..."

I mean, if I'm sick, why not write? Maybe not actual songs, but words....lines...maybe something to start off of.

And a few minutes later, Robert's in house doctor call arrives, apparently not who he's used to, but whatever. It's a guy...and older guy, and he reads my temperature and blood pressure and immediately diagnoses me with a mild flu. Who the hell gets the flu in the summer?! Apparently me.

"So keep her in bed?" Robert asks and the doctor nods with a smirk.

"Keep her in bed and let her rest," he corrects, and I can't help but laugh, even though it makes me dizzy. "There's not much I'm comfortable prescribing her, given the recent medical history, but some over the counter flu and cold syrup might be the best way to go if her fever gets any worse."

I want to snap something back in annoyance at his comment, but at this point, what does it matter? Everyone in this house is perfectly aware of my history and I can't blame them.

"Maybe I should head back early," Devin suggests after Robert shows the doctor out and I shake my head, not wanting her to go cause of me. "Get some stuff done before you come back so you're all set up."

I frown, pushing myself up into a sitting position, even though that's not the best idea. "No, I'll stay out of you way so you guys don't catch this..."

"It's not that," she laughs softly, petting Aero, who still hasn't moved. "But if you're sick, you can't really help me with much, here or there. And then you guys have those awards, and I'm not needed at those."

"I'll make sure you're invited next time," I sigh. "I can ask Robert for tickets to this one if you want?"

"I'll let you two enjoy it," she smirks. "I know you've gotten comfortable to this," she adds, waving around in the air. "But you know to me, this is still crazy, right? Doing things like planning your schedule, staying in an actor's house...I'm trying not to freak out to be good, but I absolutely don't believe anything that's happening...aside from your signing, that one I called way too long ago."

"Yeah, yeah," I tease. "You were right..."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" she asks, grinning, and I roll my eyes.

Changing the subject, I realize I still have my family here...so... " I can uh...I can call Erin and see if I can stay there so I don't give Robert anything..."

But he comes strolling back in at the right moment, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. "Nope, you're staying right here where I can take care of you."

I meet his eyes, my heart beating faster than it should, aside from the fever. "Stop being so fucking perfect," I groan.

"Sorry, don't have an off switch," he tosses back and Devin laughs. "I gotta get some work done but I can bring my laptop in here and hang out until dinner."

"I kind of just want to take a nap...if that's okay," I admit, feeling bad but also feeling exhausted; I've been up since earlier and being sick just drains you.

"I'll make us something for dinner," Devin offers, and I raise an eyebrow as I lay back against the pillows again. 

"We both know that's a bad idea."

"Okay, then I'll heat up some canned soup and pretend like I made it," she grins, and I nod.

"Better."

"Do you need anything else?" Robert asks next and I shake my head, closing my eyes. 

"I'm okay, thank you."

"I'll wake you when we're ready to eat," he tells me softly.

I hear footsteps leave until I figure I'm left alone, but then the sudden feeling of lips on my forehead surprises me instead.

"Love you," he whispers to me, and then I'm out like a light, ready and willing to sleep.

Day Two.

I briefly remember getting up and stumbling into the kitchen to eat, but there's no way in hell I'm doing that today. By the time I wake up, I'm pretty sure I've woken myself up from shaking too violently. And the bed's empty; still unmade from the day before, and I know Robert's opted to sleep in the spare room this time, but I can't blame him.

I push myself instead to get up and stumble into the bathroom, needing to pee. And then I realize it's been two days since I've showered and it would probably be good to try and steam out my temperature, so I turn on the shower and slowly try to disrobe without passing out.

It's when I go to open the big glass door that I hang on a little too tight, closing my eyes against the flushed feeling chilling me, and to my aid comes those familiar arms, wrapped around my waist and holding me up.

"You're just asking for an injury, aren't you?" he sighs into my ear and I grumble, standing myself up.

"I'm sick, not handicapped..."

"You're running a hundred and two fever, you shouldn't be out of bed," he tells me, and I turn my head back for the first time to sneak a peek at him.

He's in sweats and a t shirt and he's got his reading glasses on...the thin ones, not the square ones...and he's definitely concerned. His hair's a mess and slightly wavy, and his beard and goatee is a little over grown...he apparently hasn't showered either.

"Hey, handsome," I joke, and it elicits a smirk out of him, at least.

"Let me help you," he offers, a complete gentleman despite me being naked in his grasp.

"You still have clothes on," I point out and he nods, pulling me back to sit on the closed toilet seat. 

"Stay there a sec," he tells me, then quickly strips and good Lord, is it a good sight to watch. "All right, let's go."

He's pulling me up again by my hands and helps me into the shower to stand under the water, and his dark eyes are soft on me as he watches me slowly stop shivering at the warm steam. And it's innocent; I don't even let my eyes stray past his chest, though I normally would. No, instead I'm focused on his hands as he soaps them up, but then he tells me to close my eyes and starts working the shampoo into my hair.

"Devin wasn't kidding, huh?" he asks quietly. "You put up a good fight."

"Is she really going home?" I ask quietly.

"She's catching a flight this afternoon. I'll have a car take her in."

"She doesn't have to go," I protest, and I hear him finally laugh a little bit.

"She's giving us space..."

"Why?" I grumble.

"We're a new couple and we haven't had time to do absolutely nothing yet," he reminds me. "We've only been on a couple dates and we've only had sex like...twice since your tour ended."

"I'm always open to sex..." I mumble and he giggles at that one, stepping me back to rinse off my head.

"As...attractive as that image is right now," he jokes, "I think we should wait until you're better."

"I'm not gonna get better, I'm gonna die," I groan dramatically. "It's my dying wish."

"Is that so?" he asks, and I nod, blinking my eyes back open. "Then I'd have to say I'm sorry to disappoint, sweetheart."

"You'd let you girlfriend, who you love, die without getting to see her hot boyfriend in action one more time?!" 

"You're not gonna die," he counters, and then he trades places with me, telling me to hold onto his arm if I need to while he washes himself off. 

Maybe being sick isn't so bad...watching the water hit his shoulders while my eyes totally don't travel southward...okay, maybe just a little. It's too bad I can't focus completely on that, though. I'm too worried about the spots that are now forming as I realize I've probably been under the hot water a little too long.

Eventually he helps me out and pulls one of his shirts over my head to sleep in and then ushers me back to bed.

"You know," I comment as he pulls the blankets back over me. "I was gonna ask you if you wanted to go to Disney this week...but I guess that can't happen."

"Not right now," he smirks, then nods to a shot of cold medicine and a glass of water on my night stand that he must have brought in when he came to check on me originally. "Take that, please."

I sigh but do as told, knowing he's going to watch until he can take the cup back from me again. I grimace at the taste...that fake cherry that everyone hates...and wash it down with some water to mask the flavor.

"It's okay, you know..." I tell him after a moment. "If you want to sleep in the other room..."

"I fell asleep on the couch," he answers casually. "I was watching a documentary and knocked out."

"Oh..."

"It's kinda my wind down, you know? I'll be in tonight, promise."

He kisses my forehead again, like the day before, and then he's off to finish up some work on the script he's reading for Jon's movie...he's probably tweaking the scenes; he does that every so often, but that's what makes him such a good actor.

I doze in and out again, until later in the afternoon when Devin comes in to say goodbye. 

"You can't go," I pout. "Who's gonna take care of Aero while I'm being held hostage in here?"

"I know how to feed a cat, hon," Robert comments with humor, and Devin laughs at me, too. "I'm actually quite the cat person."

"But-" I protest, and Devin shakes her head.

"Nope. He'd rather be with you and you know it. This little guy missed you while you were gone..."

Aero stretches at my side, making my heart melt, and then Devin pats his head before hugging me goodbye.

"I'll check in with you when I land, okay? Feel better and have fun with your lover here," she teases.

I feel the blush creeping in and scowl at her, but part of me likes that...referring to him for what he is. God, it's still so different...

Robert brings me dinner in bed and hangs out while I eat, telling me we've been invited to Gwyneth's Fourth of July party next week, and I of course agree to go. He insists it's going to be low key, but it's for her company, Goop, so it's probably going to be a little higher class than I'm used to...everything is with him, really. It's funny how I'm becoming used to it...

I wind up taking another short nap, until it's nearly ten at night, and there's still no sign of Robert in bed. But this time I'm more awake than before, so I decide to sit myself up. I'm not shivering anymore at this point, but my headache's still there. There's a new glass of water left on the table and another dose of cold medicine, so I take it, then drink a sip from the glass and grab my phone. I don't want to bother him and seem too clingy, so I decide to check Twitter for the first time in ages.

@Rachel_Thomas I'm stuck in bed sick and haven't been on here in ages...hi guys! Let's chat?

I've never done a question and answer type thing and honestly have been ignoring every tweet I've gotten, but it's come to my attention that apparently, I have tens of thousands of followers now, thanks to that verified patch my account now has, so I guess I have fans... And when I refresh my notifications, I have them coming in already.

@Stark10_10 feel better soon!!

Of course, why wouldn't these be mostly Robert's fans? Oh well, I guess they're kind of our fans now. So I like the tweet and respond with a thank you and go to the next one I land on, knowing full well I can't get to all of them.

@irongirlx8 are you back in pittsburgh?! i'll bring you some soup!

I grin, typing my response...

@Rachel_Thomas I'm actually in LA! But thank you!

And then I go on, trough a couple more wishing me well wishes, to which I respond with a thank you. And then they get more interesting, especially when some of my own fans start creeping in.

@thomasrofficial Sending love! We've been supporting you since day one!

I follow them back as a thank you and like that tweet.

@rdj_000 LA?! WHERE IN LA?!

@Rachel_Thomas Malibu ;)

I kinda like teasing them. They just want info on Robert, and I'm happy to gush! But I'll have some fun first.

@robertsduck13 pls tell him hello! i love you two so much :')

@Rachel_Thomas He's working at the moment but I'll pass it on next time he stops in!

@rduckeyjr WAIT YOU'RE LIVING TOGETHER?!

@Rachel_Thomas He insisted on me staying here until I'm better.

@imherefortonystark he's TAKING CARE OF YOU?! that's so sweet omg <3 <3

@Rachel_Thomas I don't deserve him. <3

@ironheart7 There's no doubt he loves her, guys...look at how he's always looked at @Rachel_Thomas! we all should've known!

There's a few photos attached to this one...one from the Sherlock premiere, one from the live stream of his birthday party, one candid from our first official public date in the Hampton's, another candid from the other night that we went to dinner with Devin and Jimmy... And in each one, he's got that look I've fallen for. He's watching me when I'm not even aware, his lips tugged up slightly and his eyes soft.

I hadn't even noticed this...hadn't looked closely enough at these photos, I guess. And maybe it's because I'm sick and delirious, or maybe because I'm tired, I don't know...but I start to feel my heart flutter as I press my lips together and cut the Q&A short. Right now I can't handle how I missed it. Even before we were dating, how much he cared. How stupid I acted for so long, fighting with myself and him over whether or not he liked me, keeping my walls up so long until I let him in. Even now, working from home and keeping me at his house, in his bed, until I'm feeling better... He wasn't lying; this man's been in love with me since we met, and there's photographic evidence to prove it.

So I force myself out of bed, draping a blanket over my shoulders again, and wander into the living room in hopes he's still up. And he is, his arm draped over the back of the couch and his feet up on the coffee table as he watches TV, just like he said he was doing last night. He's got his laptop in his lap, but he's too focused on his show; some war documentary, must be a series he's watching.

I don't think he notices me come in, because when I make my way over to him and join him on the couch, his focus shifts. He slowly closes his laptop and sets it aside as I lay down and hug his side, my head on his chest, and his arm finds its way around me.

"Hey," he sings sweetly - confused, and light. "You feeling better?"

"I love you," I whisper back, nuzzling my head into his side and squeezing him gently, and I guess he senses my mood because he starts drawing up and down my arm with his fingers and looks down at me, his warm, tired eyes flickering over my face.

"I love you too, pretty girl...what's up?"

I take a deep breath, feeling myself get emotional again. Like, you ever just want to be close to someone? Just hug them more than just hugging them would accomplish, because just hugging them isn't enough? Does that make sense? I don't know. But I just want to hold onto him until I can't anymore, completely swept away by the fact that he actually does care, more than I could imagine.

"I just love you a lot," I sigh. "Someone tweeted me all these photos of us and you're just...looking at me. Not the cameras, not anyone else, just me."

"That's because you're insanely gorgeous and it's hard not to," he laughs, and I shake my head.

"No, no...it's different," I tell him. "And then you're here, making sure I'm not alone while I'm sick, and you're bringing me water and helping me shower, and you just actually care, and I always knew that, but I guess it just hit me seeing those photos, and-"

"I've loved you since that first day here in Malibu, crazy," he interrupts, and his eyes are glittering, even in the darkness.

"You don't know how happy you make me," I whisper, and squeeze him again.

He simply leans down and kisses the top of my head, then reaches for the remote and turns off the TV, leaving us in darkness.

"Let's go to bed," he suggests.

"But you're still working," I protest lightly, but he doesn't care. 

"It can wait till tomorrow. I just want to lay down with you right now."

And it's innocent, but he takes me back to bed, joining me after brushing his teeth and refilling my water, and cuddles me until I drift off.

Day three.

The bed's empty again when I wake up and there's cold medicine, water, and some breakfast waiting on a plate on the nightstand, and the clock on my phone says it's already nearing noon. But on the plus side, I feel ten times better. I'm still stuffed up, but my fever must be gone, because temperature wise I feel great, and I'm not dizzy anymore. I still take the meds, just in case, but not that's the last dose I'm accepting.

And then my phone rings, so assuming it must be Robert, Devin, or my mom, I answer it blindly, my voice cracking a little.

"Yeah?" I mumble.

But it's a guy's voice on the other end, taking me by surprise.

"Rachel?" it asks. "Hey, it's Rob. Did I wake you?"

"Uh..." I manage, sitting up. "I'm gonna assume the one I met in Vegas cause my Rob is currently MIA and doesn't quite sound like you..."

"Yeah," he laughs.

"Sorry, I've been sick and stuck in bed."

"I saw on Twitter," he muses. "Listen, I won't keep you so you can get back to sleep, but I know we talked about playing together, and I just got the word we're doing a performance at the AMA's in the fall, so I was hoping you'd want to join us?"

Yeah, that has me wide awake as jump out of bed and start pacing, like I normally do with important news.

"Wait, you want me to go to the AMA's?!"

"Yeah, I can put you and Downey in as guests, if you want," he confirms. "Or anyone else you need."

"Really?!"

"Yup!"

"Shit, uh...yeah, yeah! Of course! Can I um, just check his schedule and get back to you on how many?"

"Yeah, we've got time," he chuckles. "Just text it over when you figure it out."

"Thank you," I breathe, stunned. "Thank you, so so much."

And then I'm quickly scrambling into the hallway, not feeling sick in the least with all the adrenaline running through my body.

"Robert!" I yell. "Roberto, hey!"

"In the office," he calls back, and when I run in he drops his script and swivels his chair my way, dropping his glasses over the bridge of his nose. "You look better."

And as if on queue, I sneeze, and he smirks, but I don't let it get to me; guess I'm still recovering.

"Guess what!" I nearly yell and his eyes widen as he shakes his head.

"I got nothin."

"I just got invited to the AMA's!" I tell him, hopping up and down.

But that does it. I'm a little dizzy now, so he stands and takes the phone from my hands, then walks me into the kitchen and sits me down at the island.

"Settle down a little," he laughs, pouring me some orange juice. "You're still getting over this thing and I don't want you passing out."

"I'm going to be playing a song!" I go on as he passes me the glass and leans on his forearms on the counter in front of me. "Not by myself, but like, with Rob and his band, and-"

"Wait, he invited you?" he asks, and I nod.

"Don't get jealous, it's completely professional," I sigh.

"I'm not jealous," he argues, "I think that's great. I just think they should be recognizing you for you."

"Maybe next year," I shrug. "But this is huge!"

"When is it?" he asks, trying not to show the green shining through his mask.

"In the fall, November I think. Do you want to go? I told him I'd ask so he can add us to the list."

Robert smirks from behind his glasses and raises an eyebrow. "Of course I want to go, is that even a question?"

"Well, I didn't know, since you're filming in the fall, and-" I start, but he shakes his head.

"I'll get out of it for a day or two if I have to."

I spend the rest of the day excitedly chatting his ear off as he attempts to read over his lines, and then I finally give him a break when I start to get drowsy again after dinner and call it a night early. Most of the night is tossing and turning until he comes to bed, though; I'm too worked up. But he's right, I'm still not feeling the greatest, but I should be good as new tomorrow...I hope.


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally just a pointless fluff/smut chapter, had no idea it would turn out this long so it's its own chapter at this point. ANYWAY, I finished the suit guys!! FINALLY. But it still needs sanded and painted this weekend...can't wait till it's done!
> 
> Also, another random bonus content at the end...just how the I love you scene ORIGINALLY went, before I completely changed it.

It takes me a few days to completely get over being sick, which is fine, because it gives me a chance to do some writing while Robert's going over lines. Filming starts in the early fall, and even though he doesn't have many scenes, he's still gonna be on set for a good chunk of time. We haven't really discussed what we're going to do yet after the awards next week, but it's gonna come up eventually...

When I was feeling well enough, I took a trip back to the grocery store on my own, but I felt guilty about using the car. I don't know, just weird coming and going and using his expensive things like it's nothing...but he insisted. I made a few side stops in the shopping center, peeking into a jewelry store and a clothing store. I came back with a few things...not to mention a gift for Robert. Something to say thank you, for taking care of me.

When I get back though, he's out; he had to go to Venice, into the office, which I still haven't been to. So I drop off my things in the bedroom, hoping to add to the pile that I've had forming on the floor in the corner, but it's not there.

That sly fox moved me in when I wasn't paying attention! 

I eventually locate my things in the dresser, the bottom drawer. My clothes, my bags...and then in the closet, my dresses and touring outfits. All hung up, instead of folded, to avoid creasing them further. I'm gonna get him for this later...even though I know it's just temporary. Temporary or not, it's the gesture...that he's giving me his space. 

But for now, I take my phone to the living room and plop down on the couch, going through Twitter; it's my new hobby...his fans are funny, and it's nice because that was totally me so I appreciate most of what I see. Most of them tweet photos of him, joking about how hot he is, and I honestly feel like messing with them so I go through and like a ton. And then I see one that catches my eye.

@Stark_Tony5 Friendly reminder that this bitch wears PRADA skdmksj

It's a photo of Robert from Iron Man 2, leaning over the table of the city before he makes the new element. They zoom in on his pocket and of course, the brand name about it is Prada.

Grinning, I quote the tweet and take things a step further...

@Rachel_Thomas @RobertDowneyJr fess up!! I know you have to still have this!

And then I set down my phone and browse his movie cabinet, decided to pop something in until he gets back. I'm still a little fatigued and being out all morning has just made me want to have a lazy afternoon.

Ah, Iron Man 2, speak of the devil. You bet your ass I'm watching this one.

So I grab the blanket we've been sharing and drape it over myself, pressing play on the main menu. I get about twenty minutes in, maybe. Like that part in Monaco. with Pepper. Yeah, my favorite scene. Anyway, that's when my phone buzzes and he actually replied publicly.

@RobertDowneyJr @Rachel_Thomas Top right shelf in the closet.

Snickering, I invest myself in hurrying to his room and searching his closet, finding the shelf he's mentioning. And there's a couple familiar things. Things he's taken from set. The shirt, the Iron Man 3 shirt he used just a few months ago, the Black Sabbath one from the Avengers that just came out... I want to fan girl, to try it all on, but I'm literally dating this man, it's not like it's going anywhere. So I take the Prada shirt, changing out of mine and into it. It's big, but it covers me, and it smells like him and I love it.

On my way back I stop in the bathroom and take a photo in the mirror, then post that to Instagram.

@Rachel_Thomas @RobertDowneyJr it looks better on me. ;)

My stomach grumbles, though, and I realize I'm hungry, but it's already three so I don't want to ruin dinner in case he hasn't eaten, either. So I steal the gallon of ice cream I bought on our first shopping trip, and a spoon, and get comfortable again back on the couch as I continue the movie, Aero now joining me on my side.

I'm half paying attention, half eating, half looking at my phone. Wait, that's three halves. Shit. You know what I mean.

There's tweets coming in in reply to Robert's tweet and I find it hilarious. They've screencapped my post and are eating it up, with comments like 'HE REALLY KEPT IT' and 'she actually has it on omg!'.

Until a chunk of time passes and I'm watching Tony destroy his house after his party, and the jingle of keys and a front door opening makes me aware that I have company.

"You know, I'm so used to a dark, empty house..." he muses from the kitchen as he rests his eyes on me. "What is this?"

He smirks, taking off his hat and that silly side bag he always carries around, and I'm suddenly embarrased by what I'm doing.

"I'm watching a movie.." I mumble, pretending to be super focused on the screen as I shove a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth.

"Are you wearing the shirt?!" he asks, making his way over to me to inspect. "Oh my God you are."

"Do you want me to take it off?" I ask, moving my attention to him with an eyebrow raised as I suck on the spoon and he shudders, his eyes dark.

"My head's saying please please please but my stomach's saying otherwise... Are you hungry or is that sufficing?" he asks, pointing to the carton.

"I'm starving," I admit. "But I didn't know when you'd be back so I had a snack!"

"You know, a couple months ago you'd be freaking out about making a mess if I was eating ice cream so close to something Prada."

"A couple months ago I'd be freaking out at even the thought of a designer name in my presence," I correct, then stand and carry my carton back to the freezer and setting the spoon in the sink. "And now I have the designers and the movie stars," I tease when I turn back to him and run my hands up his chest.

He smirks, watching. "You must be feeling all better."

"I am," I agree. "Thanks to you."

"Hey, I'm not a doctor!"

"No, but you played doctor until you healed me..." I say with a bite of my lip and his eyes radiate warmth.

"I am an actor..."

"And the best one I know..." I agree, but then I remember my shopping stop earlier. "Oh, before I forget....close your eyes and stay here!"

"Last time you told me to close my eyes-" he starts, probably remembering that might of our first private date on set in Atlanta...

I ignore him and make sure he's not peeking, and then I'm quickly skipping down the hall to the bedroom to retrive the box his gift is in from my drawer. I remove it and return and he looks concerned.

"This is like last time, isn't it?" he tries to guess and I laugh.

"Hold out your hand," I request and he does as told.

Thankfully today, he isn't wearing one of his bracelets, which gives me access to put this on. I turn his wrist, so his palm is down, and now he looks even more confused. So I fasten it around his wrist, but before I can tell him to open his eyes I catch him peeking a glance and smack his shoulder lightly with a dramatic gasp.

"Bobby! I told you no peeking!"

He grins wide with guilt but opens his eyes to inspect my gift anyway.

"This isn't one of mine," he notices, admiring the beaded spiritual bracelet I've hooked onto him.

"No, I got it this morning," I admit, then point to the one purple bead in the mix of black ones. "This one's amethyst. It means health, beauty, and clarity. I think... And it's my birthstone."

"Can I ask why?"

"I don't know...something for you to remember me by this time. And cause you went out of your way to take care of me and cause I love you," I ramble out, feeling awkward; I've never been good at gift giving.

But he softens his grin and his eyes study it for a second before pulling me into a hug, my head against his strong chest frame.

"I love you too," he tells me. "I love it, and I really appreciate it."

"Really?" I ask, sounding relieved and he looks puzzled when he lets me go.

"Yes, really. I'll wear it all the time," he promises.

But then the moment's passed and he hurries to scamper toward the couch, plopping himself down with a bounce and scaring Aero half to death. He's a child, I swear.

"Whatcha watching, anyway?" he asks, sprawling out along the couch.

I fold my arms over my chest and raise an eyebrow when I make it over, waiting for him to move. "You're in my seat."

"I'm in my seat," he corrects. My house, my couch."

Ouch. Okay.

"Fine," I decide, then turn and sit flat on his chest, making him groan. "My Robert, my seat."

"Come on, I'm a senior citizen, you can't weigh me down like this!" he pouts and I roll my eyes.

"Are you calling me fat?" I challenge.

"No, you're perfect," he tells me, rubbing my leg. "But I'm old, so get off me."

With another eye roll I get up and he pushes himself into a sitting position, patting the space next to him between he and the cat. I join, smirking as I press my lips to his cheek.

"You've never asked me to get odf you before... And you're not old," I state, and he riases an eyebrow just like Tony's doing on TV.

"Oh look, it's me," he grins. "I should've guessed!"

"Don't make this weird," I answer, back to my phone, and he pulls me closer into his side until I cave and let my guard down. "Okay it's already weird."

"Would it be less weird if I turn on my acting charm?" he suggests and I fight to sit up but he tightens his grip around me instead, shaking his head. "Nope. You're not going anywhere."

"Robert!" I pout but it's not use.

"Relax. Finish the movie with me," he requests.

"But you've seen this a thousand times," I sigh. "You literally made it."

But he only shrugs. "I wanna see you fan girl a little bit. Good for my self esteem."

"Quite the opposite, actually," I sigh.

But I do as told, occasionally scrolling through Twitter while we finish it up. It's awkward, ha. Having Tony as my pillow while we're watching Tony on the TV. I remember all of the times I watched this at home and now I'm watching it with him. At his house. Not by myself, not hoping I only get to meet him someday.

So at my ultimate fan girling moment, I go back to Instagram and record a video for my story, camera facing me and then panning to Robert, to the TV, and back to me with a fake shocked face. 

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks and I grin, caught.

"Nothing, Tony," I lie, and he smirks.

And I post it and can't wait to see the reactions to that. 

When the movie ends I lean my head back, smiling at him, and he mirrors me.

"What?" he chuckles lightly.

"Nothin," I tease. "You're cute."

That adorable smirk holds on his face as he smooths out my hair, his eyes holding mine. "Wanna go out for dinner?" he offers lightly. "If you're feeling better, anyway..."

"I'm feeling great," I confirm. 

"Nobu?" he offers. "I could go for some Japanese."

"Whatever you want," I say sincerely, just happy to be feeling well enough to spend time with him again.

"Okay, get a jacket and let's go," he tells me, turning off the TV and pushing himself up. "I'm driving!"

I can't help but laugh at it, like I had a choice. That one time was just to prove him wrong. But that's okay, because I like riding in the car with him. 

"Fine, but I'm paying!" I call, and he scolds me with his eyes but I don't let it change my mind.

"You know it's nothing to me," he presses, grabbing his cigarettes, and I sigh.

"Okay, you can pay," I decide, as if that's some kind of reward...only in his twisted mind. "If you quit smoking those things."

That makes him freeze, his eyes narrowed as I grab my bag and make for the garage, not caring if I'm still wearing that Prada shirt or not.

And dinner goes well. There's cameras on him as soon as we arrive. Lord knows how that's happened, but it has. I mean, this place is notorious for celebrity sightings, but still... But he takes my hand in his and walks me in, ignoring it. Somehow, that little hand hold changes everything for me every time. 

"So," he comments as they set the first few dishes down. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," I tease, and he kicks me lightly under the table. "Okay, okay. Shoot."

He picks at the food with his chopsticks and slowly thinks about whatever it is he wants to ask, which is making me extremely nervous. And I'm not sure if it's a good or a bad thing.

"Why didn't you tell me about the EP?" he finally lets out and I tilt my head, thinking.

Shit. I never officially told him. I meant to, but I didn't find out it was a real done deal until I was sick, and...

"It just slipped my mind," I admit. "Devin didn't tell me what she found on them until before she left. I guess I wanted to wait until it was real and not jinx myself."

He fakes a smile and focuses on his dish and I sigh audibly. 

"Robert," I call, trying to gain his attention again. "Hey."

"Yeah?" he asks, finally looking up again.

"I was gonna tell you after I signed the deal. You know I'm not good with sharing things. It used to backlash."

"I know," he agrees. "I just could've helped, I probably have contacts..."

I lean forward, smiling sweetly over the table. "I love you, weirdo. I do. But you know I want to try to make this career on my own...at least as much as I can. And you won't always be there to help me make decisions, you have a job too...and I gotta test Devin, don't I? She's gotta handle me if I get famous, and I need to trust she can do her job."

"You're already famous," he mutters with another bite of food.

And thankfully he caves, agreeing to relax; I promised I'd fill him in when I know what Devin sets up. Oh, and he agrees to pay the bill and not touch the cigarettes, kind of a win win for me, but he still thinks it's a win for him, so whatever. I just want him to watch it; smoking isn't healthy, even if it is his one buffer for the bad days.

But my biggest surprise of the day is when we get back, and he's pouring me a glass of wine to join him outside by the infinity pool as I kick off my shoes.

"By the way," he tells me over his shoulder as I go to hang my bag on the hook by the door where he keeps his keys, "I don't know if you saw but I hung your stuff up in our room."

And I stall in walking back to him and he looks over, eyebrows raised and slowly sets the bottle down next to the glass.

"What, invasion of privacy?" he asks. "Sorry, I mean, I've seen your underwear so putting them away didn't really seem like a big deal, but I won't touch anything else if you don't want-"

I honestly don't even realize he's speaking. My feet are running my brain instead, as I step across the room and throw myself at him, nearly knocking him off his feet. My arms wrap around his neck and my lips claim his and he's grunting into my kiss, confused.

"What-" he tries, and I cup his face instead, staying a breath away.

I can't help but shake my shake with my eyes closed tightly and a grin on my face. "You said our room," I whisper, and I wait for a reaction.

"I did," he answers after a moment. "At least for the rest of your stay..."

And that's fine. I don't want to think about making any big decisions right now. But it's the first time something has been "ours" and not just his or mine. It gives me butterflies, even if it's something so simple. And I want nothing more than him right now...and the fact that it's been nearly a week doesn't help.

So I kiss him again, pulling at the untrimmed yet still thin beard he has going and he's eager to kiss back, forgetting the wine on the side counter completely. Instead, his hands find my waist and his tongue finds the inside of my mouth and I let a quiet moan slip, which only heats it up too quickly.

Before I know it I'm tugging at his shirt collar and he only breaks to let me pull it over his head, and then I'm urgently going for his jeans, which he helps tug down after pulling his wallet out for protection. It's like that time Devin caught us, but no one's walking in this time. And I pull him back to my mouth, hard, and that's when it sparks a fire in him, because from that point on, he's aggressively unbuttoning the buttons on his Iron Man 2 shirt, until he's able to push it off my shoulder and with one sweep, he unhooks my bra and lets that follow.

All I can hear are the quick breaths we're taking, his grunts and my squeak when he steps us back and firmly presses my body between him and the island counter.

"I need you," I breathe in between kisses, and I'm pulling at his hair now, keeping this heated.

But I'm chilled instead when he tugs my shorts down and lifts me up and places my bare ass on the island, the marble cold and slick underneath me. He takes the opportunity to go for my neck instead, his hands grabbing at my chest, when I gasp at the contact.

"Please," I beg, holding onto his shoulders, and he nips at my skin in response, fumbling with the condom he's pulled form his wallet until he successfully pulls it on.

And then he's tugging my hips to the edge of the counter, his hands steadying me, and his mouth back on mine until he pushes himself in, taking me on the counter top...the same one Devin scolded me for sitting on last week. And it's hot and it's needy and he moves hard, focused, until he needs a breath and moves back to kissing my shoulder, his hands sliding up my back t hold me up at a better angle.

"Oh God," I breathe when he re positions us, and my arms drape over his shoulders as I toss my head back.

"You feel amazing," he groans, becoming unstable.

And that pushes me further toward my limit, my gut tightening. I dig my nails into his back, suppressing a long moan, but it doesn't work.

"Yes, yes, yes, fuck..." I whine.

"You like that?" he asks, voice husky as he keeps up with the pace.

"Keep going," I beg, but to push me even further, he's slipping a hand in between us and lets his thumb roll over my center, giving me an entirely new sensation that has me coming nearly instantly. "Robert," I whisper, a breathy warning, and it isn't long before he follows, finally slowing to a still before removing himself from me.

As I catch my breath and grip the edge of the counter, he's cleaning himself up and disposing of the condom, but before I can say anything else or hop down, he's scooping me back up in his arms, a big kiss on my mouth, though nothing like before.

"Let's take this back to our room," he suggests, and I know his mood's changed.

"Round two?" I grin and he pecks my lips again. 

"In our bed."

 

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BONUS SCENE:

"I did it," I say simply, never leaving his chocolate eyes. "I called the police, and... They arrested him. There was a hearing."

He lets his shoulders loosen and his face softens, obviously relieved, but he doesn't talk, so I keep going, but only once I look at my hands again.

"I chose you. I know it probably doesn't mean anything to you, but...I just can't shake that day at the apartment. I wanted you to know I'm fine. And I couldn't just text you...well, I honestly don't have that phone anymore, anyway, so I was locked out of Twitter, and it isn't really that easy to find Robert Downey Jr's phone number online, so..."

I realize I'm rambling, so I eventually trail off. When I look back at him, a slight smile is pulling at his lips and he sighs, pulling his hands from his pockets. Before I know it, he's pulled me into a big hug, his arms slipping around my waist as he lays his chin on my shoulder.

"Do you know how worried I was?" he asks quietly. "Every day."

I relax for the first time in hours and lean into him, feeling the emptiness from the past few months being filled. His familiar scent, the way his touch sends fire to my skin, his deep voice rumbling in my ear...

But that doesn't mean things are fine...not yet.

"I know you might...I mean, if you're seeing someone else, I get it..." I say after enjoying his embrace for a few more seconds. "We never really..well, I guess-"

He shuts me up, releasing me to pull me in for a kiss, his lips pressing against mine as hard as he can. I feel his hand run through my hair just before he releases me, and then his forehead is pressed to mine and he's grinning.

"I missed you, Rach" he admits.

"You're insane," I giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He drops his to my waist and then he's leaning back in. "I know," he mumbles.

I can't help but smile against his lips. It's an innocent kiss, one I've needed for a while, and the fact that he's just as happy is making my stomach do flips. But another part of me is longing for his touch...remembering the only night we shared. He pecks mine a few more times before I catch him off guard, running my hands down his chest and slipping them under his shirt to trace the line above his pants.

"I need you," I speak into his kiss, and I can feel him inhale and smirk against my mouth.

He grunts something of approval before speaking, but like me, doesn't unlock his mouth from mine. "Mmm, hotel?"

"Too far. Trailer?"

"Mhmm..." he mumbles in approval. "God, I love you."

It doesn't even take a second for me to push him off, my hands pressed against his waist to keep safe distance, my eyes scanning his for any sign of confirmation. There's no way in hell I heard that right. Did I? No. He had to have said something else. Want? Yeah. Maybe that. 'I want you'. It's close, right?

"What?"

Thankfully, the next thing I hear is a slow clap from across the space, coming from the car that still hadn't left.

"Thank God!" Jimmy groans, waving the phone in the air. "Are you done moping around the place now?"

Robert whips his head toward his security and friend and open his mouth to speak, but quickly closes it again.

"Got it all on video, boss," Jimmy teases.

"Hey, you don't post that anywhere!" Downey demands, pointing at him as he finally sinks into the seat of the car and rolls down the passenger window.

"I assume you'll be late. Save a seat for ya," he grins back and starts the engine.

I watch him go, before I feel Robert lay a hand over mine on his chest, pulling me from the distraction. I look back to him, my eyes still wide.

"It's okay..." he begins, trying to comfort me, I guess. "If you don't feel the same, I mean. That's not really how I wanted to say that for the first time...I mean, there was supposed to be wine and maybe a nice dinner or a walk on the beach, or... I'm not expecting you to say it back or anything, I just realized it while you've been away and-"

"I love you, too," I answer quietly, interrupting him while it's his turn to ramble.

"Are you sure?"

I can't help but laugh at his own shock, nodding.

He keeps talking. "I know I'm not...well, this is never gonna be conventional, Rach. The age difference, and...my life is pretty crazy, and-"

"Robert," I stop him, pulling him back into my personal space until my chest is pressed against his. "I need you to listen, okay?"

He swallows and nods, narrowing his eyes as his brain tries to figure me out. I hold his gaze, doing my best to keep a straight face.

"First, shut up," I scold, not giving him time to interject. "Second, take me to your trailer and fuck me before I go home and do it myself."


	50. A/N

Hey guys! Really sorry for barley updating this week! I'll be posting something tomorrow, promise! I had to finish painting the Iron Man suit I'm working on and I was doing that for literally twelve hours yesterday...I still have lots to do to it, but tonight I'm just physically exhausted and even though I was going to try and get something up here for you guys, I don't want to rush and make it terrible, and I can barely keep my eyes open anyway...so, please keep a look out tomorrow! <3 Hope you're all still reading this if you haven't caught up yet!


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So do you guys want me to delete that A/N and just make this chapter fifty like it's supposed to be or do you not care? Also, weird place to cut this off, I know, but I didn't wanna rush it and I'm over my usual word count already so I figured I'd merge the rest in with the next update.

The next couple of days turn out to be the first peek I get into how busy my life is going to be. Devin has a bunch of emails and forms I need to sign and get back to her, contracts with this recording studio I need to read through, and the stuff Rob had sent over regarding the performance in the fall. I'm trying to get some songs knocked out, too, but in between that, taking care of both the cats and now the alpacas for him, and having a social life with Robert, I'm starting to get worn out. Not to mention that Robert's actually trying to quit smoking, to my actual surprise, and he's been off and on irritable and not quite as quirky as normal...but I forgive him.

Gwyneth's party is pretty much what I'd expect from Goop. It's high class, but relaxed. Mostly staff, her kids...a couple work friends, like Robert. It's private, and secluded in the mountains, with an outdoor set up and a gorgeous view of the city...and probably the fireworks, as well.

But it's not something that's as fancy as the awards so Robert and I get dressed ourselves, though I do put on a nice blue dress I picked up the other day. Robert's got the usual dark wash jeans on, refusing to upscale it any more, and a white shirt with a red jacket tied over his shoulders to complete the red white and blue look. He's quite patriotic, apparently..or festive. Not sure which.

Regardless, the dinner is nice, and no one really gives us much attention, which is amazing. Robert's schmoozing with her guests though, leaving me a listening companion for most of it since I don't know a lot of their work, still.

At some point I excuse myself to the bar, deciding to have a glass of wine, and that's when I'm hit with the first taste of rude Hollywood...not that Gwyneth did this or anything, but just that it happened in general. Trust me, I don't plan on telling her...not today.

Anyway, here's what happens...

There's a guy in a suit, probably around my age, and he watches from his lean against the bar top as I stroll over and retrieve the glass of red from the bartender. He doesn't say anything, just watches, until I thank the man behind the counter and I catch his eye.

"Fun party, isn't it?" he asks me, and I raise an eyebrow as I take a sip, taking in the sarcasm coating his voice.

"I think it turned out very nice," I answer truthfully; Gwyn's got an eye for this decor stuff, and I wouldn't have expected anything less decorative.

"It's better now," he smirks, and holds out a hand. "I'm Drew," he tells me.

So, being kind, I smile and shake it, introducing myself as well; apparently he doesn't know me, but not a lot do. "Rachel."

"Right," he murmurs. "So, didn't know hey co-star had kids," he continues, sincere as all hell, and I blink, processing.

I look back to where he nods, back at Robert, who's still talking with the couple I left him with, and then my focus returns to Drew. Oh my God, is he seriously being a dick about the age difference right now? No way. Oh, this is going to be great.

"I'm sorry?" I ask in return, wanting to make sure I'm reading this right.

"With your dad, right?"

I crack my jaw, shaking my head with a smirk and looking down at my glass. "I..no, actually, I'm with my boyfriend," I tell him, then turn to leave him hanging. "Lovely to meet you, Drew."

And thank God Robert's returning to our table, because I stride over, placing the glass down, and grab him by the cheeks and plant a big kiss on his lips when I join him at the table. His eyebrows raise, I can feel it, and then he's tilting his head, confused. 

"You haven't been this needy since-" he starts, but I'm glaring at the bar, at the man who's just watching from far away.

He eventually turns back to the bar when we lock eyes, and then I'm sighing and grabbing the wine again as I finally sit down into my own chair. 

"What, make a new friend?" he jabs and I set down the now empty glass. 

"Yeah," I exhale slowly. "But I told him I had to come ask if daddy would let him join us."

Robert nearly spits out his sip of water and turns to me, arm draped over the back of the chair. "I'm sorry, what?!"

"Jack ass had no idea who you were, who I was, and thought you were my father," I inform him.

Thankfully he isn't hurt by this...he's just extremely amused by the first half of that sentence. "You're upset because he didn't recognize you?"

"Partially..." I admit. "Okay, yeah, that sounds bad. I guess I'm just getting used to it... You're not bothered by the other thing?"

"No," he answers quickly, but not before running his hand up my thigh and watching it as it traces. "I get shit for my age daily, Rach. Nothing new."

"What?! From who?!" Honestly, I had no idea, and now my rage is fueling for a different reason.

He shrugs. "Internet. Fans, mostly. Not all of em, just some. Doesn't mean I care."

I feel chills as I meet his eyes, mine soft yet fired up with defense. "They're right you know..." I say with a frown, but he shakes his head.

"They're just upset that I'm happy and they're not. Even if it's more than a couple years apart, mentally, you're right here with me."

"That's because you're a child," I joke, and he smirks.

"You gotta have a little fun in life."

I drop the PDA until the end of the night, just to remain professional for Gwyneth's sake. But when the fireworks are set to start, everyone's wandered out to the deck, and as we watch, Robert's got his arms wrapped around me and his chin rested on my shoulder. He kisses my cheek sometime after they've begun, and then nods to the shimmering white lights in the sky when I peek a glance back at him.

"Those are my favorite," he says into my ear, talking about those ones that sparkle and create a sort of fiery descent into the sky with that scratchy burning noise.

"Mine too," I grin, squeezing his forearms with my hands as I hold onto them and melt back into his embrace.

And we watch like that until it's time to say goodnight, and I've never felt more safe or secure in my life. He's warm, soft, cuddly, and it's perfect. It's probably the most time we've had to relax since the dinner the other night.

Honestly, he's been pretty wrapped up in doing some writing with Jon on this script for Chef, so he's been back and forth between home and the office almost every day, even earlier today. And I still haven't been there..until near the end of the week when he calls me on his way in.

"Hey," he sings, already sounding guilty.

I'm still not out of bed so I know he doesn't want to wake me up.

"I bet you look beautiful right now," he continues and I sigh.

"What do you want?" I tease.

But he doesn't tell me I'm wrong. "Okay, so don't kill me, but I'm already into the mountains and I sort of left that version of the script I was writing on in the folder on my desk. Is there any way you could meet me for lunch somewhere in between and bring it by?"

"You know you're Robert Downey Jr and you can literally take as long of a lunch as you want to come get it, right?" I grumble sleepily.

He knows I'm not a morning person now, so he just laughs. "So it's an excuse to have lunch with you."

"I'd believe that if it happened more often," I tell him. "How about I just bring it there? I'll stop and grab something on the way."

"Hmm, lunch date at the office?" he asks, tossing the idea around.

"Unless you wanna go out, that's fine too," I assure him. "Just an idea, since I haven't seen the place yet."

"Yeah, you're right," he agrees, sounding shocked that he hasn't taken me there yet. "Stop by whenever, I'll just run some lines with him until then."

"Okay, just give me like two hours," I yawn, then force myself out of bed.

It's kind of odd, really....how much of a normal couple we are right now. He's out of bed mid morning and on his way in while I sleep until nearly noon like a lazy piece of shit, but to be fair, we're always up pretty late. I gotta work on that... But he always comes in to say goodbye, and leaves me alone at the house as though I've already permanently moved in...but this is just temporary. Aero winds up taking his place in bed until I get up, comfortable as ever and adjusted to Robert as though they've always been best buds...probably just because he feeds him in the mornings, though.

I'm texted the address, and by the time I make it in, I'm lead to the office where Robert and Jon are laughing over some story Robert's telling him about filming Sherlock. I've probably already heard it, honestly, so I don't ask. I just knock lightly after thanking the receptionist, and hold up a bag of food in my hand.

"Delivery," I grin, and Robert stands to greet me.

But I'm stunned, taking in his appearance as he gives me a soft kiss. Something's missing. The scratchy stubble, the shadow along his jaw...

"Did you shave?" I ask as he takes the bag and I wrack my brain trying to remember missing the feeling of his beard when he kissed me goodbye, but I was pretty much asleep then.

He smirks, nodding for me to join them. "Sorry, hon. I know you love it but I don't need to look like Tony for this one. I'll grow it back."

Yeah, I'm a little heartbroken, but he still looks good. Different good.

"I'll meet you two back here in an hour?" Jon suggests, going to stand, but I shake my head and point to the cartons of Chinese Robert's pulling out of the bag.

"There's a ton of food, stay," I offer, and with a smile, he decides to join us.

As I dish out some food for myself, I spot that painting I had given him for his birthday hanging behind the desk, but Robert's already on me about home, his feet kicked up on the corner of the desk as he leans back on the couch next to it with me.

"Did you check on the girls?" he mumbles through a mouthful of food and I roll my eyes.

"Yes, dear, your llamas are fine."

"They. Are. Alpacas!" he gasps, but he knows I did it on purpose so he isn't actually mad; I've been teasing him about his love for them a lot in the last week. 

Jon just laughs, amused by our bickering.

"What?" Robert asks, sucking a noodle into his mouth.

"You sure you two haven't eloped?" he asks with a raised eyebrow. "This is married couple shit."

"So we've been told," I chuckle. "Jim seems to think so, too," I recall.

Robert hums in acknowledgment but soon they're going over the script I brought him and talking it over through mouthfuls of food. Eventually, Robert puts his aside and focuses, writing in a couple corrections.

"I'm picturing an apartment, honestly like this," Jon explains with his hands waving about. "Or just somewhere with seating. Modern ish."

"Right," Robert agrees, and I watch silently as he blinks, reading the lines over again.

And then he's handing me the booklet, nodding to the chairs in front of his desk. Am I supposed to join him? What, hold it up?

"Read these," he tells me, pointing to the highlighted few, and I stare at him, wide eyed. "Just these few, it's like two seconds of a scene."

"Oh, no," I insist, "this is your thing, not mine."

"I'm not saying rewrite them," he laughs. "I just wanna test something out."

"Robert," I groan, and he shakes his head.

"Nope, come on, girlfriend duties. You gotta help!"

I tilt my head with a sarcastic look, but I know he just wants me to be part of this with him and stick around for the afternoon, so I cave.

"Fine...just...go ahead.." I mumble, and Jon watches, interested in how the hell this is gonna go.

It's weird to see Robert in acting mode. Like, I've seen him like this on set, yeah, but now he's focused on me, reacting to my reading, as though I'm his co star, and it's odd. 

"It's a white on white, '88 Chevy Grumman food truck," he speaks, and suddenly he's put himself into the character and not Robert like I'm used to. "A blank canvas for your imagination."

"A blank canvas?" I ask, repeating him uneasily as I look straight down at the paper; but honestly, I'm just analyzing how weird this sounds...like, it's good, but it needs reworded.

"I'm gonna have 'em pull it around," he says with a nod.

"Thank you," I mumble back, and stay focused on the booklet in my hand.

"Better," Jon sighs. "I dunno, we need more of a-"

"It seems too friendly," I murmur, then look up at Robert who's looking at Jon with narrowed eyes. "This guy isn't a main character, is he?"

"Well, no, but-" Bobby starts.

"You need to write it with a little mystery still, then. You're what, getting a car off of him? Why not go to a dealer? Make him dress it up, make me want to believe this was a better idea."

"Well, it's not that he doesn't want to-" Jon starts to correct, but Robert holds up his hand, nodding at me.

"No, let her go," he requests.

I can tell he just wants to see what's going on in my head, so I sigh, reading his lines with my lips once or twice before getting up and moving to the couch.

"Stay there," I instruct, and I forget what I'm doing entirely as I set the book down next to me and try to remember what I'd reword it to...hopefully he'll catch on that we've switched roles. "I got just the thing," I start. "We're talking about a white on white, 88 Chevy Grumman food truck..."

I move slowly, slyly lifting myself up and coming to join him in the chair I started in earlier, leaning over the arm rest and connecting my eyes with his.

"It's a blank canvas for your dreams," I nearly whisper, trying to sell it, and then snap back into decision mode. "I'm gonna have 'em pull it around."

"Thank you," he answers simply, but I add a little to the end.

"Don't thank me till you see it," I end, and he narrows his eyes, glancing at Jon. 

"I like that, write that down," he tells his friend, and I smirk. "Where the hell did you learn to act?"

I can feel myself blush as I sit back and drop the role. "I can't, I just..."

"You know," he continues, "I was kidding when I told you I was afraid you'd be coming after my job, but that was unexpected entirely."

Thankfully he doesn't bring it up again before I leave and after I kiss him goodbye, still freaked out by the lack of facial hair, I'm on my way to the house again, wanting to spend some time with Aero before we go to dinner later.

There's photos of it, of course. Us downtown, going to a nice restaurant on the strip. They want to eat up his new look, I guess, and since the awards are just around the corner, they're all over wanting to know what he's up to.

Ah, the awards. Well, let's just get to that, huh? Because I spend all weekend being nervous as hell until he has Jeanne meet us at the house so we can get ready.

The dress fits like a charm, and Robert still hasn't seen me in it; he's busy getting ready in his own room. From the spare bedroom, she got my hair and makeup ready, and I've never felt more myself than when she agreed to put it up in a ponytail...though tasteful and classy. And when she leaves to go check on his suit, I look at myself in the mirror for the first time and nearly die. I could never do this myself, but somehow I look good. It's still crazy to me, though, how we have someone doing this for us now. How used to it I am.

But I'm definitely not used to the rest.

No used to walking into the kitchen in my navy heels, matching his suit, or the way he can actually appreciate me without getting caught this time. The way his jaw goes slack and his eyes soften when I avoid them and stare at my feet as I walk with my clutch in hand.

"You," he whispers, hands instantly finding my waist when I approach, "look absolutely breathtaking..."

"Thanks..." I answer, embarrassed. "Are you sure it's okay? I can put my hair down or loose these earrings, or-"

"No," he insists quickly, shaking his head. "You're gonna blow em all away."

I force a smile as we're led to the car, which has already gathered Jimmy as Robert's social media contact for the night, and he insists on a picture out front, which I'm glad to take this time. I attach myself to Robert's side, and then for a second one, lean up to kiss him on the cheek for one. I'm getting used to the photos...and I love looking at them later.

"So you ready for your first premiere as his date?" Jimmy teases when we're riding to the venue in the city, and I suck in a breath, shaking my head.

"Nope," I squeak. "Not at all."

"It'll be fine," Robert promises, squeezing my hand, but his attention is out the window instead.

He looks tired, and despite how perfectly his hair is lying or how nicely his tinted gray frames match out color coding, he's looking a little faded.

"Still staying away from the cigarettes, huh?" Jimmy asks, and he nods curtly.

"That obvious?"

"Just a little," he jokes, and I squeeze his hand back.

"We can work it out," I suggest. "You don't have to quit cold turkey, you know."

"Nope, I'm doing it for you," he promises. "I'm past the worst of it, anyway."

I know he's lying though, but I don't press his buttons...not this close to the drop off point.

"So, he's gonna stop to interview and sign," Jimmy explains as we slow. "Then you guys will be sent up to photos. I wouldn't worry about answering questions but if they ask something about you, feel free. Uh, inside we'll have assigned seats with the rest of the group, and if he wins, you'll just stand back with me."

"What?" I nearly whisper. "The rest of-"

"Oh, sorry, forgot to mention that," Robert grins, and I know he did it on purpose. "The gang's all here."

I can't do anything but stare at him as his door is approached by the people at drop off, and then he motions in front of him.

"Out you go!" he sings and I panic.

"No, you first!"

"This is your first event," he teases, and I shake my head.

"I don't care, you're the guy, I need your help getting out."

He eyes me for a second, smirking behind his square frames. "I'm gonna remember that next time you tell me you don't need my help."

"I don't care," I repeat on an exhale and he knows to chill out with the jokes; I'm way too nervous.

So, he takes my hand and raises it to his lips, kissing the back and grabbing my attention; he hasn't done that since...since New York that first weekend together, almost a year ago now.

"Breathe. You got this. I'm here if you need me, but this is your night this time, too...please enjoy it. Now smile, door's are gonna open."

And then we're met with the same screams I remember from Sherlock, only these ones are a little more intense. But there's a ton of people, and we're moved swiftly inside as Jimmy loads the Instagram live feed on Robert's spare phone.

His arm wraps around me instantly as we walk in and he's pointing at the fans along the side, grinning and waving like the idiot I'm used to...he's fighting past the smoking issue and presenting himself as he normally does, and I admire him a lot for that. Eventually, he kisses my cheek and Jim hands him his usual sharpie, and then he's approaching the fans as I stand back with Jimmy, holding onto my clutch a little too hard as I watch him sign.

"He's great with them," I say lightly, happy that he's becoming more in tune with the fans.

But then Jimmy's turning to me with a grin of his own. "Wanna say hi?" he asks, and turns the camera on me.

But I'm okay, I think...if I can remember to breathe, so I smile and wave at them, laughing lightly as we wait for Robert to return. And when he does, Jimmy turns the camera back to the both of us as Robert places a quick kiss on my lips.

"You doing okay?" he asks, and I nod, taking his hand in mine.

"I'm doing great."


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo the suit is almost finished, yay! Which will mean more time to write! On another note...my buddy and I are starting a big fan project that we want all of the Ducklings to be part of, so check it out of you're interested in participating!! We're announcing details Monday - feel free to check out our social media to see what it is!

The way he holds onto my hand no matter what he's doing speaks volumes. Down the carpet and into the tent full of reporters and cameras.

He's ushered onto the photo platform, just as we were for Sherlock, but this time, we're actually an item. People want us together, not just him. And I'm clueless, so I let him listen to the calls for here and there and where to look, and he takes the lead on photos. He's holding my hand one second, smiling politely, and the next he's wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me into his side, his other hand tucked into his pocket. I'm just caught laughing, my hand sliding up his chest as he grins down at me.

"I told you you'd have fun," he tells me, then leans down for an appropriate kiss.

I meet him willingly, smiling against him as he gives them a shot of some PDA. But I know he's too shaky from lack of nicotine right now to be super excessive, so he leaves it at only a few more poses for the night; both arms around me from behind with his chin on my shoulder, standing on his toes to try to be higher than me while keeping his chin up, and kissing my cheek for the cute effect.

But before we're ushered off, he catches sight of someone else coming our way, someone he knows well, and he leaves me just for a second to take the blond man in for a big hug. The two of them have some shots to themselves, it looks like, and then they're on their way back to me.

"Rach, this is-" Robert starts, cameras still flashing, but I already know.

"Chris Evans," I sigh. "Hi, it's so nice to meet you..."

He extends a hand, which I take willingly, but then he pulls me into a hug of his own, and I catch the raised eyebrow from Robert when we part. But he doesn't speak on it. Instead, he groups the three of us together for a few extra photos.

"I know I sort of introduced you two before," Robert speaks to the both of us. 

"I've heard a lot," Chris grins, shooting me his perfect white teeth and blue eyes as he turns toward me and we start walking onward. 

His hair's slicked back and he's got his hands stuffed in his pockets, and God, is he gorgeous. But don't get me wrong, Robert's my go to and always will be. But I can't help but look...

"That's terrifying," I admit. "I hope nothing bad."

"Not a single thing," he assures me. 

Then the two of them are pulled away for a side interview and Robert squeezes my hand before he goes, leaving me with Jimmy as he cuts the live video feed and puts the phone away.

"See, not bad at all," he states and I smile warmly back.

"No, it's nice, actually..." I agree. "Weird, but nice. Not every day I get to see him in this light...this huge celebrity ordeal."

He just laughs at me, and it makes me heat up thinking about the words I just said. "He worries, sometimes."

"About what?"

"You thinking he's some douche bag movie star."

I raise my eyebrows in amusement, watching as he leans on Evan's shoulder as they do their interview. "When the hell did he say that?"

"Sometime while you were apart. But it sounds like you see right through it now."

I soften up at that, not realizing Robert's been so concerned. "I see Robert. That's it. He comes with both things...the cute and cuddly romantic at home and the hard working, sometimes a little too cocky actor. But there's nothing about about either of those...except making me want to panic in situations like this."

"You seem fine tonight."

"I'm okay right now...but this is not normal to me. The lights, the fancy clothes, the carpet... All of these people here, for him. It's a little crazy to think that I'm dating him...but I think it always will be."

And that's when I'm surprised, myself, and I'm tapped on the shoulder with someone with a microphone, someone from a TV station, it looks like, though I don't recognize it right away.

"Hi," the girl starts quickly. "You're Rachel Thomas, right?"

Wow. Okay, so people do know who I am...

"Yeah," I nod with a smile, glancing at Jimmy who silently encourages me to go. 

"Right...I work with ABC, for part of their live stream contractors, and I was hoping you'd want to do a quick Q&A?" she asks, and I blink, stunned.

"Well, I don't know where Robert is, but..." I start, and she laughs, genuine. 

"No, no, just you is fine!"

"Oh," I mumble, embarrassed. "Um..yeah. Yeah, why not?"

"I take it you don't do these a lot, huh?" she asks as she leads me aside toward her camera man and I bite my lip.

"Yeah, this is only my second carpet, but first award show..."

"We'll be quick," she responds, and then she's working her magic for the camera.

"Well I've found someone special here!" she greets the viewers and I watch her as she turns to me. "Miss Rachel Thomas, up and coming recording artist, and Robert Downey Jr's date tonight, correct?"

"Yes," I agree, nodding with a smile as I clutch onto my hand bag. "I'm so, so excited to be here."

"You look amazing, by the way," she compliments and I look down, not believing it.

"Thank you!"

"You're very welcome...so how does it feel to be here?"

"It's crazy!" I answer truthfully. "I never imagined this happening in my life, at all. Not even by myself. But now I'm here, and-"

"And you have a gorgeous date, might I add."

I laugh again, nodding in strong agreement. "I know, doesn't he clean up nice?"

"He does! But no Tony Stark look, huh?"

"No, that was a surprise to me, too," I admit. "I miss it."

"So, we hear there may be plans for an album in the future, are you working on anything that you can tell us about?"

"Maybe," I sigh. "I honestly can't answer that for sure. But I'd really love to make that happen."

And I don't have time to listen to much else before I feel the wind almost knocked out of me and I very nearly lose my balance, but thankfully, two strong arms are wrapped around me holding me upright. There's a big, wet kiss left on my cheek and when I look up, the girl's star struck, and I don't even have to ask.

"Bobby!" I laugh, clutching onto him before he lets me go and wraps his arm around my waist, standing next to me.

"Hey!" he greets with a broad smile.

"And here you have it, we've found the man of the hour himself!" the interviewer tells the camera and then Robert's taking over the interview with me by his side, which is fine by me.

"Ooh, were you talking about me?" he asks, playing innocent, and I roll my eyes as she nods.

"You're up for quite a few awards tonight, alone and with your team..."

"Uh huh."

"How does that feel?"

"Spectacular," he answers swiftly. "I'd be afraid if I were our competition."

Lord, is he cocky.

"You think you'll pull out the win?"

"I've already won," he tells her sincerely.

But when I glance at him, he isn't looking at her with his answer, he's smirking down at me, his eyes soft and warm and I feel my heart flutter at his response. He doesn't care about the awards...

"You two are adorable," the woman sighs, and I can't keep myself from smiling up at him, my hand sliding up his chest as I lean into his side, just like before.

She lets us go quickly after that and then we're being pushed inside with the rest of the guests, and we're lead to a row with the rest of the team already seated there. I take my seat between Robert and Chris, Jimmy to Robert's other side, and I'm thankful to have the two of them flanking me to settle my nerves, even if Chris is a fairly new friend.

I'm quickly introduced to the rest of the team, trying not to fan girl, bu thankfully the show starts before too long so I don't have to remind myself how to speak and make a good first impression. 

And I mean...you've all seen award shows. This one's pretty basic. But I feel tense as hell for Robert when his categories come up. I know the cameras are on us when they read off his name as a nominee, but that's the most they get, because he unfortunately doesn't win his solo nods. He just smiles at me, assuring me it's okay like I'm the one who was voted in, and that's the most humble thing in the world, but I still feel badly about it. Shit, I mean bad. Not an adverb. Thank you Robert's old movies for correcting my grammar.

But the one they do win? The group award for action movie. The whole Avenger team wins, and when they call it out, he's very patient with his celebration, giving me a kiss and straightening out his jacket as he slowly stands to follow the team up. He's so suave with it, it's insane.

He briefly mentions me in his acceptance speech, making me blush, but I'm too focused on how proud I am of him as I sit with Jimmy and listen, and before long they're back to their seats and I give him a tight hug, congratulating him.

"You deserve it," I tell him, and he simply takes my hand in his and holds it on his knee, smiling at me.

I make small chatter with Chris at the after party which we attend for a few short minutes. But Robert's getting edgy, I can tell, and I almost feel like telling him just to go have a cigarette, but he's already refused once. We basically just make an appearance and while he says hello to his friends, I listen to some of Chris's stories about him as he tells them at the bar.

"But he's a pleasure to work with, he really is," he laughs. "Man's head strong, I'll give you that. And quirky."

"Oh, I know," I agree easily. 

"You know he moves half his furniture back and forth between here and Atlanta when he's filming?"

"That's what he says," I laugh. "I think I'm gonna just buy him new furniture..."

"He won't take it," he grins.

"I'll find a way," I promise. "So you guys are close then, huh?"

"I'd say so," Chris answers, thinking over his drink. "He's definitely a good mentor to have on set. And aside from how our characters act, we get along pretty well."

"He's a softie," I confirm.

"Can I ask...how old you are, though?" he says after a short hesitation. "Not that I think you are, but you seem so young, and Downey's-"

I sigh, not annoyed at him, but just tired of the question in general. But I'm polite with it.

"Yeah, he's older," I admit. "I'm thirty. He's...not."

"I'm thirty!" Chris beams back, taking the hint to move on, and I press my lips together before snorting out a laugh at how excited he is over being age buddies.

But Robert's back to my side after that, another kiss on my cheek and a whisper that Jimmy's having the car brought around so we can head back into Malibu. So it's time to say goodbye, but Chris drops his number in my phone to keep in touch and then we're leaving out the back entrance, the car taking us home first before dropping Jimmy at his place. The ride is full of light chatter, Robert obviously tired and a little on edge.

"They'll mail us individual ones," he tells me when I ask about the award that he didn't bring home. "That one will stay with the studio."

"I guess it'll go in the office?" I assume, and he nods.

And then my phone goes off, an incoming message that I'm sure is adding to the pile Devin has sent me that I've tried to answer during the show's commercials... But it's not her, it's Rob, sending me a congratulations for Robert.

RT: tell your man congrats me and the guys! hope you had a good night, looking forward to hanging with you in the fall!

I grin and type my message back quietly.

RT: thank you, i'll tell him! can't wait!

"Who's that?" Robert asks, sneaking a peek, and I scowl.

"Why are you so worried?" I ask, and he frowns, looking away. "It's just Rob, he says congratulations on your award."

"Oh," he comments back, and then his focus is out the window as we pull up to the gate at his house and they drop us there, letting us walk down the driveway for some quiet time together.

Robert lets me out first, then says goodnight to Jimmy, and then he's punching in his gate key and stuffing his hands in his pockets as we walk onto the property and down the driveway toward the front door.

It's nice out; not too chilly, not too hot, despite it being summer. It's getting later in the year, mid July, and the fall is definitely starting to creep in at night. But it's nothing like the cold of the east coast, which I'm dreading heading back to soon... But that's my real home. This place...this clear sky with a thousand stars, the ocean waves in the distance...this is my temporary home, my vacation spot. This is his home, just something he's been kind enough to share with me. Maybe someday I'll have a place of my own out here...but for now, I guess I'm just crashing with he or my aunt and uncle.

"So you and Chris hit it off," he comments as we near the door and he takes his keys out to unlock it, and I hum, looking up at the sky. 

"Yeah, he's nice. Just like Steve," I tease.

"Mmm, team Cap are we, now?" he asks, and even if he doesn't intend it to sound jealous, it's jealous.

"Team Stark, always," I counter.

"Right." 

He sets the keys down and I'm eager to undress, wanting to get these heels off. My feet are sore and swollen from not being used to walking in these things, and I can't wait to take a shower and lie down...despite how wonderfully beautiful this dress and makeup are tonight.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" he calls as I wander down the hallway toward the bedroom, and I mumble out an agreement back.

"It was so much different than I was expecting! And that interviewer, wanting to talk to me...." I ramble as I let my hair down and start taking off my jewelry in the bathroom.

I hear the click of his shoes sliding off outside the door, somewhere in the closet, probably.

"Everyone wanted to talk to you," he states. "Even Jim and Chris kept you company. I told you it'd be fine!"

"It was," I answer, peeking out of the bathroom. "Are you sure you're okay though?"

"Me?" he asks, a little more power to his voice when he sees my hair down. "Yeah. Why?"

"You keep bringing up Chris..." I mumble, then make my way out toward the door, where the hangers are resting for our attire.

"So?" he asks, undoing his zipper on his dress pants, and that's when it clicks.

"Oh, Robert, come on!" I fake whine, more so amused by this.

"What?"

"Don't get like this."

He tries to play it off, changing the subject. "You know, I can help you take that off," he suggests, that tone present in his voice...the one that screams 'I want you'.

But I know he's using it as a defense mechanism, he always does.

"You're jealous," I laugh, amused by how he wants to play it off as I kick off my shoes, turning my back to him while I lean against the wall. "I don't know why, because we talked about this, but you are. Don't deny that."

I pull the zipper on the dress and delicately step out of it, planning on hanging it up to send back to his designer, but then I'm suddenly surrounded by warmth. His arms engulf me in a squeeze from behind as I let out a surprised squeak. I feel the cool tingle of his breath on my neck and the stubble from his five o'clock shadow growing in since shaving this morning...Lord, this man can grow a beard... Anyway, he's not shy about letting his hands wander or keeping me pressed firmly against him, immediately setting my insides on fire.

"I'm not jealous, I'm protective," he corrects me, voice husky and low, and I try hard to suppress a moan but it still comes out.

"Protective of what?" I breathe, sensing the shift in mood as he lets his jealousy take over.

It sparks something in me...a memory, deja vu...something. Maybe...maybe like things used to be. Like...Charlie. But no, I'm just imaging that. This isn't the same, this is playful.

"I'm gonna make you mine," he answers instead, sending chills down my spine.

"Robert," I whisper, my hand finding his hair as he bites that soft spot on my neck.

I love it when he's like this, I do. But everything so far has been tame. This..this is suddenly needy, suddenly rough. This is...sort of like Charlie, even if this time it's exciting me. He wants to mark his territory, I guess, show me he's better than the other guys tonight, even though I don't need that proved to believe it. But...if he wants this, I can do this...his hands are warm, not cold like Charlie's were. And he's doing this out of want. He wants me, wants to be close to me, wants to make me feel good...

And when he bites down particularly hard, I nearly collapse in his hands, gasping out a whine that makes him chuckle.

And then just like that, he lets me go, leaving me to stand there alone as he takes off his jacket and hands it up on the back of the door where the hanger sits.

"Wait, that's it?" I ask, stunned and frustrated. "You want to get me all worked up just to walk away?"

"Relax, sweetheart," he smirks. "I wasn't gonna push you."

"Push me?" I blink.

"What, did that actually turn you on?" he questions as an eyebrow raises and I feel my cheeks redden with a blush.

But instead of being shy, I take advantage of his attire, stepping up and grabbing him by his tie, pulling him slowly in toward me and the bed. His eyes lock with mine, fire appearing in them as I refrain from kissing him and undo the knot, his lips slightly parted. I loosen it, then slip it over around his neck and place it over my head instead. Then, I lean in, brushing my lips against his ear, and I know I've beaten him at his own game.

"Make me yours," I demand, and oh, was that a bad idea.

Why?

Because he jumps at those words, pushing me back against the bed before he crawls up my body, watching as he traces his hand lightly down my cheek and to my shoulder. I start out laughing but the lust in his eyes straightens me out right away.

"You're gonna regret that," he warns.

And those words definitely are familiar. They're distant though. But chilling. But I try to brush it off and keep my eyes on him to keep me balanced.

Until he takes the tie from my neck, tugging it to swiftly remove it from my shoulder with a snap, and then I feel his other hand shift up and stealing my wrists raising them together above my head.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, voice low.

My heart's beating out of my chest now, struggling under his weight and his scent and his touch... His words are still loud, repeating in my head, but I can't let it get to me. He wants to spice things up, I guess. And he's asking for permission.

So, I nod.

"Yes," I whisper.

And it's not a lie. I do trust him. But not Charlie. And as he wraps the silk tie around my wrists, I feel my breathing stagger and my blood chill slightly. I know it's Robert, I do, but a part of my brain isn't letting me realize that.

"Good," he purrs with a smirk when he tugs on it to make sure it isn't coming undone. "This..." he hums with mischief, "is for flirting with my costars all night."

"I wasn't," I insist on a breath.

And then his lips are on my neck, his hand still holding my wrists in place, and he's roughly working on a spot that makes me shiver. It's blissful, but I'm still struggling internally.

His free hand snakes its way down my abdomen, squeezing my hip when it makes it there. After a couple more kisses, he starts traveling up to my lips, wanting more.

"I want to hear you calling my name," he begs.

But then he meets my lips when I gasp as he squeezes my hip again, and then he's letting his tongue dive into my mouth, waiting for my eager kiss back...but it doesn't come.

My body's tensed up and there's no unlocking it. He hasn't even gotten my underwear off, so I'm not naked yet, thank God. But I can't make my head let go of it. My hands, above my head, his pressure on them so I can't move...it's like all those times I told Charlie no and he pushed himself on me anyway. His voice echos in my head, the disgusting dirty feeling that lingered after...

_"I said I'm not in the mood," I tell him._

_But he doesn't listen. He wants release and I know he hasn't taken the meds today. And that's why he doesn't care about pushing me up against the dresser as I try to put away our folded clothes._

_"Come on. It's been a week," he protests, aggressively spinning me around, and I stare, hard, silent._

_"Charlie-" I groan, but that doesn't stop him from gripping my biceps, probably a little too strong, and carefully leading me to the bed. "I said stop!"_

_But my repetition means nothing and he pushes me down into a sitting position, hovering over me to kiss me and lean me back. When my head hits the pillow I break away, turning my head as I push at his shoulders._

_"No," I tell him firmly._

_"Rach, just relax," he tries, and he doesn't seem to care about me trying to push him off._

_Instead he's pulling at my shorts, wanting to skip the foreplay I guess, and he's set on trying to kiss my neck as an attempt to get me in the mood._

_"Stop," I request again, but this push sends him spiraling into that place the meds usually block off and he's groaning, pulling away to stare me in the eyes._

_And as he does that, their blue freezing me, he grabs my hands and pins them above my head._

_"Relax," he repeats, and then he's back to work and I guess...I guess there's just a point I stop trying._

At some other point I've squeezed my eyes closed, my breath held, and that's when he notices. He notices the second I shut down and he breaks his kiss, bless him for that.

"Rachel?" he calls, trying to get into my head, concern heavy.

And the weight's suddenly gone from my hands, but I can't move still.

"Hey, Rach... Babe, are you okay?"

A few moments later I feel his hand carefully turning my face toward him and he begs me to open my eyes.

"Look at me, please. Okay? It's okay, it's just me..."

And for some reason, his voice helps and I take a deep breath before opening my eyes and meeting his concerned chocolate brown ones staring back. He's right...it isn't the normal blue cold of Charlie's, and those lashes are something unique to him only. I know it's Robert. Not Charlie.

So I nod carefully, trying to steady my breathing. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Don't be," he insists, untying the tie before moving to shift off of me and sit on the mattress next to me, his hand lightly resting on my shoulder for comfort. "Rach, I had no idea..."

He sounds hurt, and I run a hand over my face to try and calm down further.

"...He pushed himself on you, didn't he?" he asks after a moment's hesitation, and I sigh.

I'm frustrated. Annoyed that he has to ruin this. That he has to constantly stick around, just when I think I've gotten over it. He's the one haunting me, he's the one making my eyes water with tears right now... He won.

"It only happened a couple times," I tell him with a shaky voice, unable to look him in the eye. "But...'no' just didn't matter anymore, you know? I mean, I could've done more, but-"

"Don't you dare give me any excuses," he orders, pulling the spare blanket from the end of the bed and holding it open. "Come here..."

"But-" I start, but he shakes his head.

"We're done for tonight, okay?"

"Okay..." I sigh, sitting up.

He drapes the blanket around me and then stands, offering me his hand. "How about a drink or something?"

And I agree, admiring the fact that he's not pushing me to talk or answer questions, and that he's making sure I'm covered, making sure I'm comfortable. He's definitely protective, like he said...but in a softer way.

When I stand with him, he wraps his arm around me and leads me into the kitchen, prepping a mug for me as he gets out the instant hot chocolate I insisted he buy one of those days I was sick. I take to the bar stools against the island and sit, eyes down. I feel...disgusted. Ashamed, I guess.

And then he's sliding a cup to me after a few minutes of silence and I softly thank him, forcing a smile.

He's leaning over the counter toward me on his elbows, softness radiating from him as he patiently waits. Waits for me to talk, I don't know. Waits for me to explain, I guess...

"I haven't said anything about it," I admit. "Just to you."

There's a slight nod to his head, but his eyes never leave me.

"Why me?"

"Why you?" I repeat, confused. "Because you're the man I'm sleeping with...and the obvious. You're my boyfriend and I love you and I trust you."

"Why didn't you bring it up before?" he asks, and for a moment I feel like I've hurt him and he's mad, but he's just concerned about the future instead. "He could've gone away for longer..."

I shrug, finally looking away again. "I didn't want that label. It's okay...it's not a big deal..."

"Not a big deal?!" Yeah, now he sounds mad. "He raped you."

He says the word on a whisper and I flinch, not wanting to hear it. It wasn't that bad. Wasn't like what other people have been through.

"I wouldn't call it that...I said okay eventually..." I mumble in defense, sipping at the cup. 

"No one should touch you like that, ever," he argues. "End of story. Not for possession, not for sex..." He sighs, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry, baby...I didn't know, I thought it was just the anger, not..."

"It's really okay," I insist. "Please don't let this ruin tonight..."

"I won't try anything like that again," he continues, glancing down and shaking his head. "It was a dumb idea."

"No, it wasn't..." My face is hot with a blush, because it actually wasn't a bad idea... "I kinda...I don't know, I guess you could say I like that stuff...just maybe if we go slow next time..."

When I lift my eyes back to him he's wearing that smirk he always has when he's thinking, which makes me quirk a smile at the corner of my lips as I clutch onto the glass. But it slowly fades back into a straight line.

"I don't know..." he sighs. "Rach, that's a traumatic experience, I don't want to repeat that for you."

"Robert, listen to me," I sigh. "I'm okay. I wasn't expecting...that...from you tonight, but it's fine. I'm not glass, I'm not fragile. You're different, you're...you."

"But-"

"We've literally had sex dozens of times in the past few months, half of which haven't been the most delicate," I point out. "I can handle it, just give me some time."

He frowns but nods after a moment. "Okay..."

"Thank you..." I answer with a sincere smile, hopping off my stool and moving around the island to hug him.

My blanket wraps around the both of us, draped over my arms as I encircle his torso, and I feel him gently kiss the top of my head before I step back again.

"Let's go back to bed," I suggest, but he tilts his head, hesitating.

"I don't know if the mood's really there anymore tonight, Rach..." he starts, but that's okay.

"We can just hang out," I correct. "Talk, make out... I don't care."

And thankfully he agrees, accompanying me back to bed, dropping the subject all together.


	53. A/N

Hey guys - so I wanted to try to update tonight but I'm half way through and super tired...I promise I'll get you one tomorrow! It'll be extra long with a ton of fluff, so don't worry. I appreciate everyone being so patient with me! 

The Iron Man suit is debuting on Saturday so I've been working nonstop to try to get that finished...OH, and if you haven't heard, my fellow Duckling and I have been working on a fan project for a gift for Robert and Susan if we meet them at the A4 premiere in the spring (this was supposed to be Dolittle, but the tiny little dork broke my heart when he pushed that back the other day...). Anyway, if you want to participate, just got to DucklingFanProject.com to learn more! All proceeds are going to the ROHHAD Association, which Team Downey is currently working with...we're gonna get them their gift somehow, so it'd be awesome to have you all be part of it!

Let me know if you guys are still wanting updates...I just realized while I'm typing this that most people are probably forgetting about this since I haven't updated. Whoops. Have a good night, guys!


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know this was gonna be a long chapter but I'm falling asleep and it's 3am and I can probably go for another whole chapter's length for this part, so I split it up into two. Have fun.

Another couple of days and another looming separation. I hate every bit of it, but Devin's got a jammed packed schedule for me over the next few weeks.

There's no real plan to go back to LA anytime soon. Robert's gonna be back and forth between there and New York working with Jon, anyway, and some charity stuff for Random Act. I guess it's good...the space. You know? Too much time together...I don't know. Everything is okay, but I'm dreading that first big fight. The one I know is coming and is gonna turn everything around like every other relationship I've had. And this one will be public..so yeah, I'm sort of panicking and glad to get away.

But I miss him. Miss sleeping in the same bed, miss waking up to his good morning kiss, whether or not he's off to work. He's my source of comfort, my escape from the nightmares and the world that's now starting to focus on me. I mean, it's half because of my music and half because of him, but it's definitely an adjustment. There's tweets I'm tagged in with him now that I've liked, and photos being shared of us at the award show. People freaking out over how cute it was when he hugged me from behind during my interview, and how he didn't let go of my hand the entire time we were together. But that elicits a weird sense of fear sometimes going out...seeing people stare. It used to be because of Charlie being too possessive. Now it's because I can't go a block without a question about Robert or someone recognizing me from that tour. It's thrilling but...I wish I had his company, since he knows how to handle it.

Being in music city doesn't help, either. Devin flew me into Tennessee first. There's studio time for the EP...only a few days but it's actually happening! It's a five song compilation. I'm easily taking them off of the tour set list, and Dev called in Dave to help me out and teach the rest of the hired band members how we're going about them. It's still watered down...a little more less acoustic, but I'm not doing any crazy mixing with the tracks.

My nerves aren't as present this time I'm recording. Devin and I spend a week there, using four days of the week for recording, and another two for studio shots. She's booked the whole thing, setting up a release for the EP in September. So, naturally, I have a couple photo shoots and I have to approve of the photos I want to use once we get them back for review. And Lord, those are a different story. I feel like I'm an object having to stand there and take headshots. I mean, that's all they are, since this is pretty basic, but I keep getting told "look here" or "angle your hand like this...". The lights are blinding ...and I wonder if this is what they're like for Robert. No; these are too much like standard school photos...his would be more fun and over the top.

Anyway, Dev's even got a plan to put them up on the website she's currently designing for me. It's like night and day...Before the tour, no one knew my name. And now? Now, thanks to Devin and Robert, this is getting crazy! I've been stopped on the street and asked for photos, but thank God there's no paparazzi like Robert would have...not yet.

Oh yeah...Robert. There's some texts and phone calls with him, the usual, and that's killing me. I hate how boring we are when we're apart. Makes me think that maybe this is just...physical? No. We have fun. We laugh, we sit up working on his car or lying in bed talking about our ambitions and our pasts and our families...

And apparently we attend weddings together.

Yeah. A friend from college is getting married. Remember, that one I told you about when the news first came out about our relationship? That one friend who had called me in addition to my mom and Devin the morning after Fallon? Her name is Sam. And Sam is getting married to Jason. And Sam and Jason invited Devin and I to the wedding...probably a good few months ago, back in the earlier months of the year when Robert and I didn't exist. And we already RSVPed, so now I'm stuck going, and long story short, Devin had to make sure a plus one was still okay, and no one is going to turn down Robert Downey Jr showing up to their wedding, so...

Thankfully, we finish up in Nashville with a day of tourist stops, including the Blue Bird Cafe, and then we're back to Pittsburgh. I promised my mom I'd stop in, and the wedding's in town as well, so it just makes sense to hang out. Plus, Aero could use some time at home...we both could. Neither one of us have seen the house in weeks.

Thursday night before the wedding my mother and I head downtown to a steak house for dinner, now that I can afford these things. It's nothing the level of fancy that Robert's dates are, or anything, but it's something nicer than the usual chain restaurants we usually head to.

"So I think, if I work for the main office three days a week, I can still do the listings on my days at home," she goes on while we eat our main course at the table somewhere in the middle of the restaurant floor. "I just think the extra money would be good, you know? And a chance to get out of the house more often."

"Mom," I sigh, feeling awful for not realizing. "Do you need money? Because we have it now. I can help."

But she's stubborn, and I know she'll say no. "That's yours, Rachel. You earned that."

"I don't care," I protest. "I can spare some, and Robert-"

"Robert is his own man," she scolds. "You're just dating, don't forget that."

"I'm well aware..." I mumble slowly, not knowing where she's going with that one and not wanting to find out. "I know it sucks since dad left, but-"

"That was almost twenty five years ago!" she argues. 

"But it still hurt you!"

"I haven't thought about him in years and neither should you," she interrupts, her tone sharp. 

So I sit back in my seat, playing with my empty plate as I try to stomach the stubborn anger that's fueling me right now. I hate when she does this. I don't usually think of him. She doesn't have to tell me that. He left. Alive or not, he left. Her and me. Both of us, and even if I was young, I knew he chose to do that. But lately...

"He would be proud of you, you know," she says, voice soft after another moment of nothing but the surrounding chatter.

I can't answer. I can't do this here, not when people could be photographing or listening... So I just look back up, my eyes doing the talking as I silently thank her for saying that. I didn't know I needed it, but it does heal some of that frustration.

And then my phone's buzzing on the table, making me jump out of my chair, and I sigh when I realize it's just Robert calling in.

"I gotta get this..." I tell her awkwardly, motioning toward the lit up screen with his photo and she smirks, nodding as I bring it to my ear. "Hey, babe..."

"Hey," he answers, sounding sleepy, though the car horns in the background are enough to let me know he's still in New York City, itself. "I just wanted to check in, am I interrupting anything?"

"Just dinner with my mom," I answer kindly, glancing at her. "She says hi."

"Say hello back for me and Jim," he requests. "I won't keep you, just wanted to let you know I'm gonna get stuck here tomorrow. I'll fly out Saturday morning, promise."

"The wedding's at one," I frown to myself, and he sighs. 

"I know. I might not make the ceremony but you have Devin, right? I'll make sure we get in in time for the reception."

I want to be mad but...this is our life. Always running around, always being late. He's trying his best.

"Okay...okay, yeah. I'll uh, I'll send you the address and meet you in between?"

"Sounds perfect."

"Go get some sleep..." I mumble carefully, noting the eyes on my from a neighboring table, probably suspecting who I'm talking to. "I'll see you in a couple days."

"Heading to the house now," he assures me. "I love you."

"Love you more," I grin, biting my lip, and ignore the eye roll from my mother across the table.

But it doesn't feel okay again until Saturday rolls around and Devin stops over to get ready with me. I'm pulling out something designer I got while we were in LA, a gold dress that stops just above the knee and has a flattering tied waistline and draping short sleeves. My hair's left up, like it was for the award show a few weeks ago, after I spent all week last week in Nashville staring at the photos that had been released of us. We looked happy. Free, loose, comfortable... Like a couple.

"You have the gift?" I ask once we make it to the car, and Devin nods, holding it up from the driver's seat. "God this is gonna be so weird..."

"Why?" she asks with a laugh as we start our trip, and I sink into my seat, impatiently playing with my phone as I wait for Robert's text.

"It's basically gonna be a reunion," I point out. "Last time I saw these people I was nothing."

"And now they get to be jealous of you," she corrects. "It'll be fine!"

"It's still weird..." I grumble, but end the conversation when my phone buzzes.

TS: Landed, see you soon!

I instantly smile, glad to know he's actually here and there's no more work issues keeping him hostage. This is the first time I've seen him since I left LA a week and a half ago.

R: Can't wait <3

When we make it to the wedding venue, somehow I'm more nervous than recording. There's people walking in with their dates, and I have...Devin. Not that that's a bad thing, but I just know what people are expecting. 

"Rach," she sing songs into my attention and I snap it back to her.

"Yeah?"

"Relax. Has he texted you?" she asks as she opens the door and I sigh and do the same.

"Yeah," I answer over the car roof. "He landed a few minutes ago, he's on his way."

I force a smile when we walk through the big glass doors on the outside of the church, walking slowly into the soft chatter as people line the pews. This is weird on so many levels. My fame, no Robert, I literally should be bursting into flames since I have no defined religion...

We make our way to the middle, taking the bride's side, and I follow Devin into one of the benches, and before I can even sit down, the whispers are more audible.

"She came," they say. "Where's the famous boyfriend? Maybe they split. Hollywood's tough."

And honestly? Suddenly I'm lit with a fuel that wants to prove them wrong and show him off when he shows up. So I keep my focus on the front of the church, my lips tugged up in a firm smirk, and watch as the ceremony begins.

It's not long, thank God, but my mind's wandering. Sam's stunning. Absolutely beautiful, in a mermaid fit dress and her hair down. And Jason's looking at her like he's never going to get to again and it hurts my heart...in a good way.

I never really imagined myself up there. But now that we're that age and my friends are getting married...I don't know, could that be me? What if that's me and...Robert? Good lord, no. Stop going there. He's an actor. A big deal. You're...not. He'll find a flaw eventually. You'll fight, you'll break up...

"You okay?" Devin asks when they announce to kiss the bride and everyone cheers but me.

"Yeah, sorry," I whisper back, raising my hands to clap.

"Doing some daydreaming there?" she asks with a smirk and I blush, shaking my head as the priest announces them married and we stand to applaud them out.

The stares don't get any better as I follow her back out to the car so we can drive to the outdoor venue they have the reception lined up for; the arboretum across town with a large courtyard and lights strung up. It's beautiful, even from the outside.

But Robert's a no show so far, so I tell Devin to go in, handing her the gift bag to place on their table for us. And then I wait, wringing my hands nervously as I hang out by her car, checking my phone every other minute. 

Until I start scrolling Twitter and there's the sound of footsteps on the gravel approaching and a voice that makes me jump.

"Excuse me, miss, have you seen my girlfriend? Insanely beautiful, talented..."

I quickly put my phone away in my bag and grin ear to ear when I hear that familiar raspy sound, turning to see him strolling over with his hands in the pockets of his gray dress pants. His hair's spiked neatly like I like and he's got a purple shirt and yellow shoes that match my dress. The familiar square, black frames sit over the bridge of his nose in front of those pretty brown eyes of his that I love seeing again. Devin must've snuck him a photo so he could match, the little sneak!

"You made it!" I celebrate and toss my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a soft kiss hello as he slows to a stop.

He's still that minty mix of aftershave, and...cigarettes? 

"Are you smoking again?" I ask when we part and he tilts his head.

"I've been here a whole two minutes and you're already on me about that?" he jokes and I sigh. "I'm still trying, but cold turkey was killing me. I've cut back."

I nod, my fingers twisting in his hair at the collar of his shirt and move on, not wanting to argue over it. "I missed you."

"That's funny, because I was just thinking the same thing..." he muses, pecking another kiss on my lips. "Where's Devin?"

"Inside," I tell him with a nod to the front where people are wandering in. "The wedding party will be here soon...but I wanted to wait for you."

"Sorry I'm late," he apologizes next, and I smirk, letting his neck go to flatten out his dress shirt. "You look amazing, by the way."

"I look better now with you..." I tease, turning to take his hand and walk in with him. "You should hear all the chatter about you..."

"Word's already out, huh?"

"Yeah...they didn't expect me to come, I guess..." I sigh. "This is weird."

"Not weird," he laughs, squeezing my hand to keep my focus from the eyes wandering over to us that I'm very aware of.

"You didn't even go to the ceremony," I point out. "Not that I care, but they were judging. Hard."

"I had to work. It's understandable. And come on, we brought a gift, they can't be that upset..."

"A check doesn't quite fit the bill of gift," I poke, but he's right; it's a nice sum...a gift on his part that he insisted on, and who could turn down $20,000 as a wedding gift?

God, why is that a number I can just throw around like it's nothing now?

He pulls his hand from my grasp and places his arm around my back instead, letting it rest on my hip as he hugs me to his side and we follow the crowd into the courtyard. There's already eyes on us...well, mostly him, but I guess me too? I don't even know.

"They're staring..." I mutter, and he smirks from behind his clear glasses.

"Cause they haven't seen you in years," he answers, ignoring the obvious.

I roll my eyes, going to find out table placement cards. "Or, because I brought a movie star as my date," I tell him, picking ours up. "I'm surprised they even made you a name tag."

"Should I go incognito for today?" he jokes and I smirk, handing him his.

"See how long it takes table eight to see through your disguise..."

And then we're in, and everyone waiting for the wedding party doesn't help. There's a murmur when we walk in and I feel hot as eyes focus on us and we find our table. The reception is done up in blues and oranges and white, and it looks like something Gwyneth would put together, honestly. There's a rustic feel, lights strung overhead, and the head table remaind empty across the space. We're in the back corner, near the open bar, thank God, and Devin's already waiting with wine for me and a sparkling water for Robert.

He sits to my side, Devin to my other, and grins as the guy to his left.

"Hey," he greets, chipper and happier than last time I saw him when he refused to smoke.

"H..hi," the man stammers, and it's aparent he's a fan.

But Robert sips at his water and leans into me, whispering into my ear instead. "How long do you think I can make him sweat?"

"Bobby!" I snap playfully, fake glaring at him as I set my bag on the table.

"You need to loosen up, my dear," he grins. "Come on!"

And then he's wrapping his arms around me, peppering dramatic, short kisses against my cheek until I duck my head, laughing.

"Okay, okay, hands to yoursef!"

"That's not what you'll be saying later," he teases and I immediately go for the wine...he's such a child sometimes.

Thankfully we don't have to make small talk...yet. There's an announcement and the wedding party is introduced with a first dance, and while we watch, I feel Robert take my hand in his on my lap. I blush, smiling as he easily slips his warm fingers in between mine.

"So how was the ceremony?" he asks quietly, sparking small talk with me while we wait for the them to finish and for dinner to be served.

"Good," I tell him easily. "I haven't been to a wedding in ages so it was nice to see. Jason looked so happy..."

"How long have they known each other again?"

"Six or seven years, I think," Devin pipes up.

"I've known her longer, but I think he's good for her. They fit. Kind of opposites, so they balance each other out," I add, and Devin snickers from my side. "What?" I ask, glancing at her with question.

But then we're interrupted by applauding and while they finish up their dancing, the dinner is served. There's small talk among the table during it, which results in asking Robert if he really is the RDJ, which I find funny for some reason. There's a few selfies taken, and then some light chatter about Tony Stark and Iron Man, and he immediately snaps into character. I don't know if they can tell, but I do.

But I'm used to it, so I hold onto his hand in mine, still on my lap, as he chats to his other side, and focus on conversation with Devin about the wedding until we finish eating.


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the Iron Man suit I've been working on is finally DONE! I wore it this weekend to an early kids trick or treating night and I got so many high fives and a big hug from a really happy little boy and ugh, it just melted my heart! It's all on my IG so take a look if you want to snoop. BUT that means now I have more time to write and update EVERY one of my fanfics, so that'll be done soon! Just don't get too exited...you might hate me after the next update or so.. ;)

Once the dinner is complete the bride and groom are going through their usual procedures...tossing of the bouquet, removal of the garter... Devin poked fun at me for blushing madly; she knows where my head's at, even if Robert's still engrossed in conversation with the people next to us.

Sam tries to get me to go up to catch the bouquet, but I hate doing these things. And with Robert here...I'm content where I am. Devin won't even go, claiming that mystery man she was telling Robert about way back in LA is still chatty with her and she doesn't want to mess things up, as if he'll actually see this or care if he did. It's okay though. She's keeping me company while Robert's being the fan's guy..which is what I've asked of him before so I can't be upset.

Eventually, though, they start making their rounds to make sure they greet each guest, so I quickly finish off my wine so I can refill before prepping to see them. Like I said, it's been a while, and we haven't talked, and...who knows how this is gonna go. I mean, it'll be fine, but there's gonna be lots of questions, especially with Robert...

"Want a refill?" he asks suddenly, pulling me from my head when I set the glass back down.

"I can get it," I assure him. "You're talking."

"Come on, hand it over," he smirks, motioning toward the wine glass, so I sigh and let him take it.

But he doesn't go yet. Instead, he turns in his chair, his arm draped over the back of his, and smiles softly at me. It's that kinda look that's meant to apologize, or something, and I don't need him to. I'm glad he's conversing with the other guests. It makes it less awkward, less weird that there's a celebrity here.

But now he's off to the bar and Sam and Jason as making their way closer, and when I go to nudge Devin, she's MIA, probably taking a call or something, I guess. So I stand, myself, and pat down my dress, mentally preparing myself for this... Smile, be happy, be polite...apologize for sucking as a friend...

"Hey, Sam," I greet with a smile when she sets eyes on me, hugging her as I carefully try not to be too aggressive with it. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you!" she sings back. "I can't believe you came!"

Okay, she sounds happy. I can work with happy. I mean it is her wedding day. Hard not to be happy.

"Why wouldn't I?" I ask when I stand back straight.

"Well, I know with your life being so...different, and..." she starts awkwardly, not sure where to go with that, I guess.

"I'm sorry we haven't talked," I sigh. "It has been busy...but Devin and I promised not to miss it, so here we are! Well, I don't know where she is...she was here. Now she's... You look beautiful, by the way," I ramble, realizing I'm sounding crazy at this point.

"And so do you!" she compliments. Then, faintly, "and so does he..."

I look over my shoulder just in time to smile at Robert who's brought that drink for me back. I accept it, smiling, and gesture to Sam.

"Bobby, this is Sam, Sam this is-"

"Robert Downey Jr," she exhales, star struck. "You really are her boyfriend..."

"Yeah..." I manage awkwardly. "What, like four months now?"

"Yup," he agrees, then holds out a hand for her to shake. "Nice to meet you and congrats! Thanks for having us."

"Thank you..." she breathes, flushed. "I, uh...can we, uh, maybe take a photo with you?"

I immediately laugh and nod, pulling out my phone. "Go for it."

"Oh, no, I want you in here too!" Sam tells me and I'm not as shocked as I used to be, but still a little bit...

A guest offers to take the photo for her, so I scoot under Robert's arm and smile with them, enjoying the way he snakes his arm around my waist in instinct. 

And then when they hand the phone back, I post it to her Facebook messages so she has a copy and then place it back down on the table.

"Let me go find Devin," I offer. "I'm sure she just snuck off to the bathroom or something but I know she wants to see you." My hand rests on Robert's arm for a second, hanging over the jacket's sleeve. "Will you be okay for a second if I go grab her?"

"You know I have been in public situations without you, right?" he teases, then leans down to give me a quick kiss. "Go, I'll be fine."

I give him a squeeze to his arm before smiling and turning to head toward the entrance where there is a bathroom building, and go on my search for Devin. Honestly, it's nice just to have some air. I mean, yeah, we're outside, but...space. Time alone in silence. But I worry about him without Jim or security or whatever.

But she's easy to find, texting on her phone when I approach the parking lot.

"Hey, Sam's looking for you," I call out, apparently startling her.

"Shit, sorry," she curses, turning it off and putting it back in her bag. "I had a call, we got you a schedule for a release date!" she celebrates. "Congratulations!"

I simply blink, stunned. "What?"

"September 4th, it's a Tuesday," she tells me, then embraces me for a hug I'm not expecting so I'm still, confused.

"That's like two weeks away."

"Yup! We'll get the photos back and they'll let you proof the songs this week and then we'll get a limited amount recorded, the rest will be digital sales."

"...okay..."

"I'll get you some press scheduled before hand, just in time for the awards if you're still playing that...you're gonna make it, Rach. Someone's gonna pick this up, fast."

I listen, her words in my ear as I carefully hug her back, but then she's releasing me. My brain isn't processing well.

"It's cause of Robert," I argue. "And Sting."

"Give yourself some credit," she hushes. "But uh...where is Robert, anyway?"

"Inside the party space," I sigh. "Probably signing autographs for someone again."

The smirk and raise of her eyebrow is enough to make me burn red, knowing I'm being dramatic.

"Sounds like trouble in paradise?"

"No," I assure her. "It's fine. I just...I dunno, would be nice to like dance or something couples do at weddings..."

"Trust me, you'll have plenty of after wedding sex," she teases and I blush further. 

"Dev, that's not all we do..." I mumble, and I'm sure sure if it's because I'm trying to convince myself or because I really do want her to know there's more than that.

But she catches it and she's tilting her head, concern plastered across her face. "Who are you trying to convince?" she asks, reading my mind. "Cause you don't sound sure."

"No one," I promise, but shortly after sigh and toss my head back, taking a breath as I look at the sky. "He's just him, Dev. This is just how things are."

"I know it's different, because he's famous and all, but he can still make time for you," she reminds me.

I fake a smile when I look back at her, then nod inside, trying to forget this. "Just go say hi to Sam please, she's waiting."

"Only if you go talk to your boy toy and tell him the big news," she jokes, grabbing my hand and pulling me back toward the reception with her. 

But when we make it back, Robert's off to the corner, in conversation with a group that I don't recognize. He's busy gesturing with his hands, so I'm pretty sure it's a set story. It stings, watching him focus on that, and I don't feel like interrupting while I'm a little moody, so I point to Sam, then nod at he bar. 

"I think I'll go refill this," I tell her, motioning with my glass that I've been holding onto and have since finished off after Robert brought it back.

She frowns but then takes after the bride and I ask for a refill before sinking back down into my seat at the assigned table, now empty as guests are dancing and mingling. We're into that party mode now, the formalities done as the sunk is sinking below the horizon and the lights are becoming more necessary. I like them though...they're glittering like fairies against the darkening blue sky and it looks magical...just as a wedding should.

But I've never even thought about weddings much. Kinda had that whole forever alone thing in my mind. That, or I figured Charlie would've forced me into it at some point. God, I need to stop thinking about him...stop comparing things to him.

But as I sip at my wine, my legs now crossed as I lean back in my chair and watch the dancing couples move to a slower beat as the song changes, the unbelievable happens.

Okay, that's dramatic as all hell, but Robert's actually making his way back over, finally avoiding the fans.

"Want to dance?" he asks, pulling his Sherlock voice back out when he reaches the table, his hands sheepishly in his pockets and his face guilty.

So I sigh, trying to stay calm and not frustrated as I glance around the room. There's of course the usual glance his way, but it definitely has died down a little. Devin's joining Sam in a dance, Jason talking to some people in the corner to my right, and she nods when we lock eyes, beckoning us to join.

"We'll cause a scene," I decide. "Maybe later?"

"No we won't," he smirks. "Everyone's gotten over it."

"No they haven't," I retort. "You've literally been talking to people about Tony or Sherlock or Steve or Harry or whoever for the last forty minutes."

"Quite a list you're throwing out there, you okay?" he asks, sensing my frustration.

"I'm fine," I sigh.

But he doesn't buy it. "They're asking!"

"And your girlfriend has been sitting here by herself."

"Which is why I walked away, to ask her to dance with me, but she's being too stubborn to realize I want to spend time with just her," he teases in a sweet voice he'd use on a child, which earns an eye roll before he extends a hand. "So...are you gonna join me? Cause the songs almost over and I'll go myself."

With a groan I accept his hand and let him pull me up, smoothing out my dress as I'm lead to the dance floor. "Fine, fine... Only so no one else steals you again!"

"Only that?" he muses.

"Maybe some other reasons..."

Those reasons as tame, though. Just wanting to be close to him, feel those strong shoulders under my hands and the crisp folds of his formal jacket, reminding me of his status. Everything's so put together, so professional for him.

He takes my hands, positioning them around his neck like the last time we embraced and his hands lock around my waist, holding me closer to him than that first time we danced. That was more formal, less affectionate, but we couldn't be this close then...

I decide to finally break the ice after staring at his collar a little too long and start to feel his eyes burning into my head.

"I can't believe she's married," I start. "It's crazy how long I've known her..."

"Yeah?" he smirks when I look up and meet his sparkling brown eyes. "Let me guess, grade school buddies who used to fantasize about their weddings in their bedrooms after school?"

"College buddies," I correct as we sway and the music changes to another slow song, thank God. "And I never really did that, honestly..."

"No?" He's surprised.

"I don't know why..." I blush. "Maybe just cause my dad left, so marriage just never seemed that important to me, you know?"

That's actually it. My mom didn't need someone else, so why should I? Yeah, it'd be nice, but it wasn't a priority of mine. I think my mom figured that out a few years ago, with the lost hope of grand children.

"Oh," Robert answers simply, blinking as he focuses on something behind me an then back to me when I speak up.

"Yeah...who knows though. I'm not my dad, right?"

"No, but you might be Tony, I'm not sure..." he smirks again, hinting at how similar I sound to his character.

And that causes me to grin. "How's that work, I get his quirks, and you get his looks?"

"Honey, I am Tony Stark," he beams back, showing his perfect teeth. "In all ways."

"You are him," I agree, hands back to their usual playing with the curls of his hair at the base of his neck. "But you're more."

"And you're more than your dad. You just have to find the right person."

"Maybe..." I sigh, not believing that in the slightest.

"Trust me, you'll know."

There's a twinkly in his eye that I want to ask about, that's causing my heart to beat a little faster, but I won't push. I'm probably making assumptions. He's just being kind.

But, the mood definitely has shifted from a little tense to relaxed and happy, so that's something.

"How do you know that?" I ask next, going the safer route.

He shrugs as we move slowly. "Just have a feeling..."

"Some secret marriage I'm missing?"

"No, not yet," he answers, sincere, so I play on the word 'yet'.

"Oh, so I should watch out in the future?" I grin. "What's she look like? Red head? Blond, blue eyes? I bet it's Gwyneth."

"No." He presses his lips together for a second, eyes still glittering behind those glasses that reflect those fairy lights I was admiring earlier. "Naturally brunette and hazel eyes."

That's...that's me. And the emphasis on 'naturally'...

"I guess you have a type," I manage next, trying to remain calm, but I'm pretty sure he can hear my heart beat from inside my chest.

"Maybe."

"Or just wedding fever."

"I just believe when two people are meant to be together, they'll know. You know?" But he shakes his head, his eyes soft and focused on me. "I don't know where life is gonna take us, Rach, but I do know I love you more than I should for just a few months..."

I swear my breath catches at this, my mouth resting slightly ajar as I study him, and if it weren't for him, I probably wouldn't remember to keep my feet moving. So I focus on holding onto his shoulders as I try to calm my scattered mind... First the comment on my hair color, now..this. We've only been together since April. We're not...

"Don't you start overthinking," he adds with amusement as he reads my mind.

"I'm not," I lie.

"You are and you know it."

And another lie...just a small white one. "I've just never been to a wedding with anyone but Charlie...."

And if he's still reading me, he isn't gonna push. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Let's see..." I exhale. "I have my best friend, a boyfriend who loves me...this nice dress..."

"Where is Devin, anyway? Were you able to find her?"

"I mean you, silly," I tease, speaking of the friend comment.

"Ah."

"She's dancing with Sam, last I checked..."

And the small talk simmers and I think he knows I'm still trying to tame my wildly beating heart so he pulls my closer to him, holding me against his body. I lay my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes with a sigh as I let him blindly guide me with the dance. This is what I miss every tie he's gone...the closeness, the comfort.

But those thoughts turn into panic again over what I was thinking before. How long is this going to be okay? Hell, we almost just had a fight. If he wasn't so patient with me, things could've been bad.

"Do you mean that?" I ask after a moment, speaking into his neck as I breathe in the leftover scent of his aftershave from earlier. "The thing about loving me...?"

"Yes...do you not believe me?" His voice rumbles in my ear, sending shivers down my body.

"I do..." I quickly respond, meaning it.

"But..."

And I know he knows where my head's at. So do I be truthful or do I pretend like everything's fine? Because if I start now, who knows how today will end. But he's also told me to trust him, right? We can talk through things...and I have to start showing him I trust him if I want anything to work out...

Before I can change my mind, I settle on admitting my fears. "Where do we go from here?"

"Uh, preferably back to your place cause I didn't get a hotel," he stammers. "Unless you don't want me staying over, but that's up to you."

"No, I mean... I guess I just wasn't expecting us to drift so far apart," I whisper, clutching onto him tighter as if I'm making sure he doesn't drift further and I'm sure he notices. "I knew it was gonna be different, tough, but...we hardly talk when we're separated and you know you'll have to go in a few days and then what?"

"You think we're drifting apart?" he asks, nuzzling his chin against my shoulder as he repositions his head. "Babe, I've just been busy, you know that..."

I sigh, knowing that's true. "But eventually one of us is going to let our exhaustion get the best of us and then we're gonna fight and break up and I just can't..." I cut myself off, getting frustrated again. "I'm too attached to you now."

"I'm confused," he admits. "Are you trying to break up with me now or later?"

"I'm not!" I insist, pulling back so I can read his face again, and his brow is pressed together in confusion.

"Then I'm not following..."

"I just want to talk to you when you're away. About something other than hey, just checking in. I miss hearing about your mishaps on set or the dreams you had the night before or-"

"Honey, I'm not filming right now, there's no stories to tell-"

"That's just an example," I interrupt instead. "We talk but we don't talk. Even when I'm with you...I mean, we talk more than when we're apart, but it always leads to sex and that's nice, trust me it is, because you're...heavenly in the bedroom..." I exhale with enthusiasm, and he smirks, amused. 

"Heavenly?" he teases my words choice, but I ignore it.

"But is that all we have in common anymore?"

"Okay..." he speaks slowly, "okay, you're right... But I promise you that isn't all we have between us."

I can only fake a smile, which doesn't make him feel any better, I guess.

"I wasn't gonna tell you this now because you know I like surprising you," he starts carefully when the song ends, leading me off the dance floor to the edge, "but I was working on doing something for you that I was gonna tell you later tonight, but..."

"What?" I ask lowly, voice heavy with worry.

"I've been back and forth between New York and LA more than you know about..." he tells me, hands back in his pockets. "Meeting with a realtor in Cali."

"You're...moving? Why?"

He shakes his head. "No, no, still have the new house in Malibu."

"So what do you need a realtor for?"

"Well, I kinda put in an offer...on a place a few minutes down PCH from me...for Devin, and...you," he offers, bringing a hand back out to gesture toward myself.

"What?" I blink, not sure how to process that.

Did he just buy me a fucking house?! So like...he wants me to move near him? But, here, this is home, this is... But he doesn't want me to move in with him or anything. Just be close to him? He isn't even there most of the time. What the hell? Did Devin know about this?!

My hands are now wringing in front of me as my nerves kick in and he's quick to try to settle my panic.

"Don't freak out, Devin was just asking about the areas one day while you were sick and I took a look and...you can pay me back, if that's what you're worried about. It isn't anything too high value. I mean, not out of the ordinary for LA. But I just thought since you two are going to be back and forth and you might want your own space instead of hanging out with Fuzzy while I'm working..."

"You bought me a house?" I repeat my thoughts calmly.

"Technically I bought Devin a house," he says with a squeak to his voice and a narrowed eye as he scratches his head. "That you can also live in."

"You bought us a house?!" I repeat again, voice a little louder. "Are you insane?!"

"Yes. Probably."

"Does she know about this?!"

"Yes."

"Oh my God, you're even talking behind my back..." I groan, hand to my forehead as I move back and take my seat back at the table and he follows, sinking into his.

His hand hits my knee and his other, my shoulder, and he urges me to settle down.

"Honey. Relax. This is a good thing," he assures me. "You'll need it for work, and we'll be able to spend more time together-"

"You can't just buy someone a house, Robert!" I snap, then take a breath. "I'm sorry, I just...Robert, this is way, way too much of a gift. I don't care how much money you have, how much money I have, you literally bought your girlfriend of four months a god damn building!"

"Funny, when I professed my love for you a few minutes ago you didn't have a problem," he says through his teeth, and the shakes his head. "No. No, baby, listen to me, just look at it first, okay? If you don't like it, you don't have to live there."

"Robert-" I start again, trying to shrug his hand off my shoulder, but he only grips tighter.

"Uh uh," he disagrees. "I know what you're doing and I'm not gonna let you."

"What?"

"You just told me you think we're gonna fight and break up. And here you are, picking something to try and fight over."

My face stays straight as I lift my eyes up to his and breathe steady, and he smirks.

"Not on purpose, of course, but you know somewhere in there that's what's happening."

Finally, my lips press together in a frown as I silently admit he's right and I let my shoulders relax, and he rubs his thumb across the fabric over my skin.

"I'm not him, I'm not gonna do anything expect maybe take some time to cool off if we ever do fight. Okay?" he continues, and eventually I nod softly, lips tugging up slightly. "I'm trying to figure out how to balance things, how to make them easier for us... Look at the house. Please?"

"I hate you and your pretty face, Robert Downey," I sigh, moving to cup his cheek with my hand and he chuckles lightly, kissing my knuckles when he takes it in his own.

And then he pulls me over from my chair and places a warm, soft kiss on my lips, smiling the whole way through, and I can't help but mimic him, feeling content again. He's trying. So now I have to try.


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

Depression.

It's haunted me for a long while. Lurking through every move I make, career wise or romance or really anything. Within my past, my nightmares, behind every door...

Including the bathroom door.

The one he's now staring at, even though it's open. I watch from the hallway as I pull off my heels on the bed, Aero at my side, and wait for something from him, but nothing comes. So, I make my way past him, to use the bathroom mirror to remove my earrings, and speak up.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah," he states, blinking himself out of his trance. "Yeah, I was just thinking of the last time I was here..."

Shit. Right. The overdose.

I can't believe it's been that long but that's definitely the last time he's been here. So I slowly place my jewelry on the counter top by the sink, including the necklace I've taken off...the one he gave me in New York...and sigh.

"Don't think about it," I request softly, hands sliding up his dress shirt as I stand on my toes to match his height since I've dropped my shoes. "Damn, you're still taller than me," I joke, trying to lift his mood. "Which is funny because you're shorter than the rest of the Earth's population."

"That's rude," he smirks back, breaking his still face, and I snicker. "How do you stay here, nothing changed, nothing different...?"

"I don't know," I admit, pulling at his tie to loosen it and slip it off his neck for him, although it's already pretty loose after the rest of the night dancing. "I guess...when I think about that, I think about the few days that changed my life."

"You almost lost your life that night."

"But I got to sleep with a movie star, got rid of the abusive ex boyfriend, and wound up finding the best thing that's ever happened to me in you just a few weeks later," I murmur, smiling as I lean up to pull the glasses from his face and kiss the tip of his nose.

"Now who has wedding fever?" he teases, and I shake me head, looking down to hide my blush.

It isn't that, but it's just the truth. He saved me. He gave me a career. He gave me a reason to keep going through all the shit I've put up with until I'm happy again, and that's what I am. Happy. At least for right now. That depression is slipping away, hopefully...

"I'm just lucky," I whisper, watching as his hand slowly slips to my back to tug at the zipper on my dress. "Sometimes I forget everything we've been through..."

But he doesn't answer. Instead, he leans forward and places a warm kiss on my lips, slow and delicate, as he pushes my sleeves off my shoulders and lets my dress fall onto the floor.

"Robert," I chuckle in a whisper against his kiss. "I was gonna take a shower..."

"Shower with me," he mumbles back, tilting his head to reapply his kiss, deepening it so I can't protest, not that I want to anymore.

We haven't had sex since...God, since before that incident in LA. He said everything was fine, but he was shaken up, and we didn't try to do much else before I left for here. But I'm also conflicted, after everything I said earlier, but I really had forgotten the things in our past...at least, the negative things. The things he's helped me through, the things he's been there for emotionally, and not just physically.

But physically...well, now he's unbuttoning his shirt after letting me got to turn on the water, and when I turn back he's fumbling with his belt on his dress pants, chest bare, an Lord, is it a nice sight. He's got the slightest bit of fuzz leading up between his pecks to his collar bone, and somehow he's even more attractive than usual.

But I snap back to reality when he drops the rest of the clothing and I quickly reach behind my back for the snap on my bra and let it drop, hands then working on my underwear. And then he's opening the shower door for me, taking my hand to steady me as I go in first.

I'll uh...save you the big details, but he's careful and soft, yet steady after we soap off. And my body's hotter than the water pouring down on us when he drops to his knees, kissing down my abdomen as he holds my hips in place, hands on my ass and body between my legs, leaving me nothing to hold onto but his hair as he goes lower and gives me what I need.

Breathless. Hot and breathless, and shaking. My knees are weak as he works his tongue against me and I blush at the sounds I'm making as they echo off the shower walls just before I nearly collapse over him, eyes closed and jaw dropped in a moan that leaves him smirking as he successfully brings me to bliss.

But he's back to my lips just as fast, subconsciously quickly drying me off with a towel when we stumble out, and then he's taking my hand and pulling me back down the hallway to my bedroom, forgetting the bathroom and everything that once happened there.

"Wanna get into bed?" he asks quietly, and I shoo Aero off before pulling back to blankets.

I climb in just as he turns out the lights, the faint moonlight outside shining through the windows I'm finally leaving open, and I can just make out his silhouette as he slides into bed and hovers over me, pulling the blankets over his back.

His eyes smolder into mine as he moves my wet hair out of my eyes and I can't hear anything except the stillness of the air, my heart beating, and the crinkle of the sheets as he breathes. It's peaceful...happy, and relaxed.

"You are so beautiful," he tells me softly, then sighs. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"What?" I whisper back. "Sleeping with you? You know I didn't mean what I said earlier like -"

"No," he hushes, finger on my lips to silence me. "In your bed. In this bed. After last time..."

It's so innocent, the way he asks. And it makes sense now. He's concerned. Concerned that the things I remember out of this room, this place I sleep, will always remind me of what Charlie did. But that's the past. Just like the bathroom. 

"Yes," I answer sincerely, my hand tucking the wet curls behind his ear. "This is our bed now. You'll protect me from everything else."

And a moment of eye contact passes before he grabs the condom he's brought into bed with him and slips it on and goes back to gently kissing me, slow and agonizing and brilliant...completely opposite of what has happened in this bed up until now.

But the morning rolls around just as slow. Hazy and comforting, with warm arms embracing me and light breath on my neck, just as I'm used to. It tickles and makes me stir, and I squirm against him in a small stretch before settling back down, comfortable.

"You awake?" he mumbles sleepily, apparently up but putting on snooze in his head.

I smile in my half asleep state at the sound of his voice, raspy and deeper than usual in the mornings. "Mhmm..."

He groans, kissing my shoulder lightly. "Let's just stay in bed."

"I've got no where to go," I admit. "At least for a week or so."

"A week?" he asks next, followed by a yawn, so I chuckle.

"Yeah...I just found out last night, but my EP is being released next month."

"What?!" Now he's awake, but what a good morning present his excitement is when he rolls me over to face him, causing me to squeak softly. "Rach, that's great! Congrats!"

"Thank you," I whisper, and he pecks a kiss on my forehead.

"I'm so proud of you..."

"September 4th, right after Labor Day..."

He grunts, eyes closing again for a second. "Shit," he curses. "I have to be in Toronto that week for the Film Festival..."

"It's okay," I assure him. "Devin has me in Nashville that week, so go do your thing and-"

"Come to LA with me," he suggests. 

"When?"

"Now. This afternoon. We're headed back for some table reads...you can look at the house, move in with Devin and the cat...and if you wanna come to Toronto for the first few days, I'd love to have you..."

I sigh, internally frustrated. "I don't think I can... I mean, LA maybe, but..."

"So let's start there. And then we can figure out the rest later..." he murmurs. "But...after a nap."

"You just woke up!" I giggle, admiring his cute smirk when he hears my laugh.

"I'm still sleepy, leave me alone..."

But he convinces me, and next thing I know, I'm standing in the fully furnished property in Los Angeles, the back window having a nice view of the ocean and the front looking into the hills. A little backwards, but probably what knocked down the price a little bit. There's hardwood floors and wide open windows and a tall ceiling, and all I can think of is Devin celebrating the fact that she'll be able to set up a huge ass Christmas tree come November. Yeah, November. Remember? Christmas nut. But he was particular down to the bedrooms, mine holding a few photos of us and a nice, big Iron Man poster in the corner for laughs.

And that's exactly what she starts off with when she makes it in the next day, after Robert and I broke the place in. Yeah. We had it to ourselves for the day, so what? But then Robert's back to the no texting thing for a couple days... At least I have picking the photos for the EP to keep me occupied. So we make plans to have me spend the night after dinner on Thursday, the schedule not having me leave until after the weekend, and he a few days later to head to Toronto for Labor Day.

But come Thursday, I'm by myself on date night, waiting patiently for him to come home from the meeting he has with Jon at the office...thank God he's given me his gate codes so I can wait inside... 

Either way, I'm already on edge from that and the no talking shit he's starting up again, so by the time he wanders in over an hour late, dinner cold (even if it's only take out), it's hard to not be upset. But I push it down as he apologizes and says hello, then grabs us dishes and sticks the food in the microwave to heat back up. 

While it's warming up, I follow him to his bedroom where he changes into something more comfortable and rids his head of that beanie he always wears out. The all too comfy bed welcomes me as I plop down on the end and focus on the bit of stomach he reveals when he lifts his pullover up and over his t shirt...weird California people, always cold...

"I know I fucked up date night," he sighs as he slips it fully over his head and disappears into the closet. "But it's not too late, and we still have all night..."

"Was the read any good?" I ask instead, trying to play off my annoyance. 

"Yeah, yeah," he calls back. "Just a couple small parts for me but looks promising. Told Jon I'd help him promote this week."

"You haven't even started shooting," I remind him, and he reemerges in pajama pants, shrugging. 

"Still got interviews and shit so I can drop hints." He moves around the room, taking off his watch next. "By the way, we're using the script you fixed up with us a few weeks ago. Sounds more natural. Jon even said you should be an extra."

"Me?!" I laugh, and he shrugs again, playing it off.

"I told him no, but he was persistent."

Uh, okay, so he just decided on my career path for me?

"What?" I ask, trying to keep my cool.

"Yeah," he answers with a glance at me as he soothes his wrist and removes my bracelet next. "Figured it wasn't up your alley. But don't worry, we're crediting you for the writing."

"Why didn't you ask me first?" I ask, hurt.

He furrows his brow, not sure why I'm upset, or something. "You said before you can't even fathom what acting must be like full time..."

"I could totally do it," I argue as I stand, arms folded across my chest now. "Just as an extra, nothing competing with you, wasn't it?"

He laughs out loud at my sudden interest. "Yeah...but you know you're too shy!"

"Not with you," I argue. "And you know the tour was good for me, raised my self esteem a little bit."

"But that's just singing," he presses. "Not being in front of a camera. You don't act..."

"Just singing?!" I repeat, dumbfounded that he actually just said that.

He simply shrugs. "I'm just saying, I've done both and it's not the same as having all of your flaws and mistakes on the big screen."

I blink, unable to stop from fueling my anger now...much like that first argument we had after we slept together in Atlanta... "Excuse me?"

"What?" he asks, voice sharp as he starts to get heated too.

"'All of my flaws'? So, what, I'm not good enough?"

"No!" he tries to cover, reaching out for me. "No, you're perfect. That's not what I meant, don't try to make this into something it isn't."

"Then what did you mean?" I ask, staying rigid despite his attempt to comfort me.

He sighs. "I just...I don't know. I just don't wanna see them break you down, and..."

"You think I'm too fragile?" I ask stupidly, still not believing what he's giving me.

"I just think you're...you take things to heart...a lot," he corrects.

I huff; that's pushed me over the edge. He's not taking me seriously and I'm already worked up from earlier, and there's not much I can imagine that's going to calm me down now. Maybe a walk. Yeah, I should take a walk...

But my feelings are saying otherwise while I'm not thinking.

"Here's something you can take to heart then," I snap, "you're sleeping on the couch tonight. Enjoy your reheated dinner."

He groans, rolling his eyes and retreating to cross his own arms in defense. "Rach, seriously? Come on, you know what I meant."

"No, actually, I don't," I answer, my voice raising slightly. "First you support me, tell me how proud of me you are, how wonderful and perfect everything is, and now you don't even consult me to see what I think about something possibly career changing? What am I missing? Is it something to do with your big time name? Afraid I'll shake you down?"

"No-" he nearly snorts in amusement at how silly I sound.

But I don't let it go; I keep going, pressing further and further.

"Or maybe because you think you're so much better since your dad had you going since you were a kid," I snap. "More experience? Better deserved?"

"No, that's not-" he tries, but I cut him off again.

"Oh, wait, maybe because I'm still a kid," I argue, bringing up the first fight we ever had just like my mind's been wanting me to.

He snorts, now getting irritated, himself. "No, it's because we...never mind," he decides, flexing his muscles to try and save whatever we have left of the night. "I'll ask you next time."

"No, go on," I sarcastically beg, "say it."

He growls, trapped, running his hands through his hair and shaking his head. "I'm not doing this. You're trying to sabotage us again, for absolutely no reason."

"Sabotage? No. This is completely different than my issues."

"Not really."

"It's me, isn't it?" I pressure. "I'm not good enough, or not pretty enough, or-"

"If we break up then I don't want to have to remember that all the time!" he yells suddenly, finally exploding.

I know how to push all of his buttons, and I hate myself for it, but he also knows how to push mine, and here we are in a standoff. My heart's zooming, and my brain isn't thinking rationally, so all I take away from that is he wants to break up, or he plans on it, or... My mind makes a conclusion, my temper flaring.

"You want to protect your stupid name?" I ask, realizing he wouldn't want anyone to link us together in that situation. "After you just fucking went out of your way to promise me that wouldn't happen?!"

"Okay, I don't know what the hell your problem is today but I'm done having this conversation. When you want to settle down, we'll talk."

"You swore we wouldn't break up, and now you have all of these doubts?"

"Fuck, Rach, I don't know what shit's gonna happen! Maybe we'll be fine, maybe we won't. I'm not a fortune teller. I'm sorry you took it that way."

'Took it that way'? Is he serious? He blatantly told me he wanted a future with me, someday. Yet here he is protecting himself in case that doesn't exist. 

"Fine," I decide, unable to make sense of this. "Forget it, I don't want to do it anymore even if you let me."

"Rachel, that's not what I meant, will you just listen to me?!" he begs loudly, obviously irritated. "God, you are so fucking stubborn!"

"Me?!" I gasp. "I'm stubborn?! Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black!"

He glares at me, now pushed past his breaking point. "At least I don't try to steal my girlfriend's spotlight!"

I growl in return. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You think that's what I'm doing? Stealing the acting spotlight from my freaking award winning actor boyfriend who is significantly more famous than I could ever dream to be?!"

"Sort of, yeah," he lies, obviously just saying that...he's not hiding it well.

"Well fine."

"Good."

At this point I don't even know what the hell we're fighting about anymore. My blood's boiling and I'm too hurt to think straight.

"Well you don't have to worry about that," I snarl, then without thinking, "cause I'm just breaking up with you now!"

But he doesn't respond how he's promised. He isn't the one calming me down. He's too angry to bother, and so am I, and both of our tempers put together...results in hell.

"Fine!" he snaps back immediately.

"Fine!" I agree, trying to get the last word.

And then it sinks in as I stare at him and my heart starts to pound, the anxious feeling returning to my stomach. His shoulders drop and he relaxes a little, but his lip hangs in guilt, his eyebrows scrunching together. I can't speak...we both agreed to that way too easily.

My gut feels like I'm going to be sick and the anger is gone, replaced by a sadness and a fear I can't quite explain. It's a sorrow...that depression I thought was gone, now back as I realize that's it. He doesn't want me anymore...all over a stupid offer to play in one of his movies. Yet I can't help but stare...stare at his face, his dark eyes, the way his jaw line is softer than usual while he's clean shaven, how his dorky glasses hang on his nose perfectly, or how his thin lips curve slightly even in resting position.... This is the last time I'll get to look at that like it's mine.

And suddenly, my feet act for me and I grab my phone, propelling myself out to the driveway to take the car Devin and I have been borrowing before I panic myself into passing out. I don't hear his footsteps behind me, and that just confirms it...we're done. After he promised. After I promised myself not to try and break us up. None of it matters.


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, major inspiration from Hank Palmer on this one because I'm totally watching that right now...on it's four year anniversary. :)

I'd be lying if I said I haven't been face down in my pillow for the past two and a half days. There's no motivation for me to move...no need to do anything. I came home and crashed, landing in the bed I'm in now, and let the tears loose.

Well, let me back up. 

To make matters worse, I stumble in on Devin having...a date. Ha, you thought I was gonna say sex, right? Nope. 

Okay, sorry, just need a little humor...because it just makes things more awkward, more weird to walk in and have to instantly compose myself.

It's the guy that she was talking to at the baseball game, who I guess she's been talking to despite us being on the east coast most of the last month. They're having dinner at the table, and both look up when I walk through the front door of this stupid house that that stupid man bought...ugh. I knew I should've said no.

"Rach, you're home early..." Devin says quietly, standing and mouthing an apology to her guy before moving over to the kitchen where I'm setting down my bag and phone. "I thought you were staying at Downey's, so I invited Ezra over and..."

"Change of plans," I whisper, deliberately hiding my face from her. "I'll stay out of your way. Goodnight..."

And with that I move to grab Aero, who's sleeping on the couch, and make for the stairs, up to the second floor where my brightly lit bedroom stands with the big windows he made sure this place has after how stunned I've been in all of his homes. Right. Another reminder.

And yet another one when I set my cat gently on the bed and he curls back up into a ball, too sleepy to care that I've moved him, and my eyes settle on that annoying Iron Man poster on the wall. So I let my emotions out, now in private and not on the road behind the wheel...and take it off the hanger, dropping it on the floor. The glass frame cracks before it falls face down with a thud and my cheeks start to stain with tears in my eyes.

Fuck this. Fuck him. The man I was idolizing for years and years and years, and I got too close to him...got an unthinkable chance...and now I can't stand him. I ruined him for me, ruined the thing that made me happy, before and after I met him. And that kills. That makes my heart hurt, my chest sting, and my eyes blurry as I break down and sink down to the floor on my knees in a silent scream, not wanting to alert Devin or...Ezra, or whatever she said his name is. Some first impression, huh?

"Rach?"

Her voice sounds before a light knock and the door opens, allowing her to slip in. Of course she followed me in.... So I dry my tears with my shirt as quickly as I can, clearing my throat to face her, but her hand's on my shoulder before I can react, and I feel her presence crouching down next to me.

"Wanna talk about it?" she asks lightly, reminding me of a mother speaking with her child.

But I don't want to. No, I want to scream, to yell, to cry, to hate him, to call him, to do a lot of things. I want to run, to jump into the ocean. To drive for as long as I can before I need to sleep. Anything but think about this. Because I know I'm being dramatic, immature, even, but sometimes you just can't overcome your emotions, you know? And love...God, you know my history with love, so this isn't something I can handle well.

"All right," she sighs, squeezing my shoulder lightly. "We don't have to talk. But how about a shower and then we'll get you into bed and you can fill me in in the morning?"

I nod silently and do just that, still avoiding showing her my face, and next thing I know, I feel her climb onto my mattress behind me, over the comforter as I face away from her and quietly wet my pillow. She doesn't speak, she just hugs me and waits for my to fall asleep.

She didn't ask again Friday or Saturday, but she figured as much, and it became more clear when I didn't get up the next morning. My phone's been in the kitchen since Thursday; I don't want to see the tabloids, but she didn't say anything either way...maybe he hasn't announced it yet. But it's still too clear, too vivid in my dreams and too present in my thoughts while I'm awake... How he jumped at the opportunity, even if I put it out there first. I'm surprised I've even stopped crying; the dried tears cling to my swollen eyes, but I couldn't care less about how I look.

A knock at the door alerts me to her presence and I sigh, shifting my head to lay flat into the pillow.

"Rach, it's been three days," Devin informs me softly as she sits on the edge of the bed, hand back on my shoulder like Thursday night. "Your phone's been buzzing like crazy."

Oh, great. So he probably did say something.

"I don't care," I mumble, muffled by the pillow.

"Why don't you call him back?" she suggests.

I sniffle, trying not to cry again. I finally hit that point where I'm just numb. Processing. Soon I'll get over it. Probably have a rebellious period where I change my hair color again or something. 

"He doesn't want me," I promise. "Okay, we broke up. He doesn't love me anymore..." I whisper with a broken heart.

She sighs. "I think you're both just too stubborn to admit you just had a fight...I'm sure he doesn't think you've broken up."

"I broke up with him and he agreed," I snap back.

"Yeah? Then why does he keep calling you?"

"Probably wants his car back or us to move out," I grumble.

"Well, call him and find out, because we leave on Monday for Nashville," she sighs. "If you really think that's what he wants...we can leave the keys."

"Just leave me alone," I beg sadly, folding the pillow over my ears.

"Fine. But press is gonna jump on this, so shape up for the interviews please. As your friend, I get it, but as your manager, I need you to get your shit together so you don't drop this career. Got it?"

"Whatever..." I mumble, and then the weight lifts off the bed, and I know she's gone.

But I don't move. I'm worn myself out finally, feeling sleep creep over me.

It's a nice nap, and I'm back up a good few hours later, watching the sun start to sink over the hills and the ocean outside. I still lay on my side, facing the window as I watch the birds fly into the palm tree in the small yard. There's something calming about it, but I still haven't moved. Devin hasn't come back since earlier, and I can already feel it before there's a knock at the door.

"Go away," I plead, and don't bother turn back to the door.

It cracks open and I sigh, shifting to curl my knees into my chest under the blankets, Aero stretching at my side and finally jumping down to scurry out the closed door in search of his dinner. I close my eyes, not wanting to see anything anymore, and breathe deeply when there's a familiar weight on the bed from the other side.

"Please..." I beg, voice cracking. "I don't want to talk, just let me sleep. I'll be up and functioning for the flight tomorrow...all smiles, just like you said. Just fake...fucking happy smiles, so no one knows I give a shit. So no one knows anything."

It drips with sarcasm, my voice faded and scratchy from lack of water or nutrition over the last few days, but I don't care. I just keep going, gripping my pillow as though it might run away if I let it go.

"I'll do the interviews, I'll do the photos with the fans at the stores, I'll sign the stupid autographs. And then I'm done. No more music, no more LA. I just want to go home. And be with my cat. Alone, like I deserve."

"Rachel..."

It's not her voice. It's his. The familiar, deep raspy voice that has been haunting me for the last two and a half days.

My heart races as I flush, feeling like an idiot for breaking down in front of him like that. But I didn't know. I thought it was Devin, I thought...

"Robert," I breathe, rolling over to make sure I'm not dreaming.

He sighs, looking upset with himself when he sees my puffy eyes and makeupless face. "God, Rach, I'm so sorry..."

I breathe sharply, tears welling in my eyes again after I take in his appearance. Beanie on, sweats, a white t shirt, glasses...the most dulled down he's ever been. Unshaven, the uneven stubble growing in pretty fast, but I shouldn't be surprised...we all know the man can grow a beard on the snap of the fingers.

"Why are you here?" I whisper, heart stopped as I wait for an explanation.

This is a cruel joke. Another stab, pushing the knife deeper into me. He just wants the car, right? I must've guessed right. The world just wants me to suffer. I don't deserve him, and whoever's up there is gonna make me well aware of that... 

I hate his frown, but he doesn't hide it as he clears his throat, hands clasped in his lap. "Devin called me. She said you weren't doing well since...well, since..."

"We broke up," I finish with another whisper.

He swallows uncomfortably. "Yeah..."

Saying the words kills me, and it draws the tears back to my eyes as I turn my head away from him.

"I tried calling you, Rach, I-" he starts, and I squeak out a muffled sob as I swallow the urge to cry. "I lost my temper, and..."

I can barely ask it, but I need to hear an answer... "Why don't you love me anymore? I just need to know, I-"

"Rachel!" he interrupts and I can hear the crack in his voice just as much. "Don't you say that."

"What?" 

I turn back, and for the first time in all the time I've known him, he's got watery eyes. He's blinking rapidly, trying to clear them, but eventually, he brings those chocolate orbs back to me.

"Don't you say I don't love you," he whispers, hand grabbing mine on the sheets.

"But you don't...you don't care, and I just need to know why...I need to know if I did something, if I-"

"You always compare me to him," he sighs. "I'm not him. I'm not going to blame you, to tell you it's your fault. Nothing's your fault."

"Then why did you let me leave?" I press, choking up again.

"I love you so much, you have no idea. It kills me, especially seeing you like this. But if you'd be happier without me, I can't make you stay. I won't. But I need you to be okay...healthy. Not...you can't put yourself through this."

The butterflies invade again, and the tears are slipping out as I hear him fumble over his words.

"I don't want to break up," I cry, squeezing his hand in mine.

He exhales, forcing a relieved smile, and then he's readjusting so he can lay down next to me, pulling me against his chest and holding me securely from my side. He peppers a few kisses on the top of my head, then squeezes tightly, not wanting to let me go.

"We're fine, everything's okay," he promises.

"Everything's not okay," I cry, holding onto his hands around me as tight as my body will let me. "Everything's fucked up, I fucked up...I fucked it up."

"It was just a fight and we're both such stubborn idiots, I swear..." he says lowly into my ear.

And I don't care that his shoes are on the bed, or that his glasses are pressing into my cheek. I don't care that I probably smell since I haven't showered in however long, or that the five o clock shadow on his face is starting to tickle. I just care that he's here and I'm warm and safe and-

"I can't lose you," I sob into him, burying my head into his muscles. "Please don't go..."

"I'm right here..." he promises, kissing my head again. "Come on, don't cry..."

So I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself and place my lips warmly on his wrist.

"I love you," he breathes into my hair. "And I'm so sorry. I should've never agreed. I had a hot head and I wasn't thinking...and I swear, honey, I swear I never met him, I just panicked, and-"

And that's all it takes to chill my blood, to make me panic, despite him asking me not to. But he said he. Not she. So he isn't...cheating...is he? I mean, people think he's...

"Who are you talking about?" I whisper, letting go of my held breath. "What did you do?"

"Devin...didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I, uh..."

"Robert..."

"Look, nothing happened, okay?" he starts...as if that's helpful. "I'm only telling you this because I don't want any secrets, and I trust you not to say anything to anyone..."

"What happened?" I repeat, stern this time with my tone, and I hope it gets the point across.

It does.

"I uh..." he starts, loosening his grip as if he expects me to react poorly. "I kinda lost my self control for a little bit, wound up contacting my old dealer, and-"

"You what?!" I snap, forgetting everything else.

"Okay, hon, listen to me first," he begs, but I'm already squirming out of his hands and sitting up in bed, trying to figure out what's reasonable in this situation.

"Get out," I settle on, voice steady, calm, scaring even myself.

I should be mad, right? Should be upset, or worried, or angry, or something. But no. I'm just...I'm still. Once again processing. Trying to figure out where we go from here.

"Rach-" he tries, but I finch out of his grasp when he reaches for me.

"No," I whisper with a shake of my head. "Leave."

"Rach, I didn't use, I just called and I swear, I-"

"You make me to go rehab, after you ditch me for a month and feel okay, and then you go back to that shit now?! Are you fucking kidding me?!" I shout, exploding as I cut him off.

Okay, so maybe now I'm angry.

"I didn't use, I just-"

"Seven fucking years sober, and in three days you fuck that up?!"

"Nine," he corrects. "It's been nine."

"No. Zip it! Okay, I don't care how many years it's fucking been! You act all high and mighty, like you know better...but who's the one here who didn't go back to drugs?! I can get through mine and you can't even handle a fight?!"

"There's more shit than that going on, okay?!" he snaps back, and all of a sudden, we're just as angry as we were a few days ago. "You asked me to quit smoking, remember? That's a thing. That's a thing that's tough, that's eating me from the inside, day after fucking day. And now this, this isolation, ignoring me for three days. That's not normal!"

"That doesn't justify going back to drugs as a replacement!"

"You just...left!" he grumbles, finally standing and running a hand through his hair as he paces. "No answers, no nothing!"

"I needed a weekend to cool off!" I growl back.

But all he does is blink, confused. "It's Sunday night! Okay, weekend over!"

"Don't you get all particular with me right now!" I yell. "You're in no fucking position. You fucking agreed too. And you could've come here, you could've called Devin instead, but no, you didn't, you fucking...why do you even still have his fucking number?!"

"It was in an old phone, I-"

"God, Robert, just go home."

"Rach, I'm sorry, I-"

"No," I silence, rolling my eyes. "You're using me as a reason to stay sober and that's not okay. You've completely lost your own stability!"

"That's not true," he argues, trying to calm himself down. "I told you I still get urges every now and then, and-"

"You've never tried to buy!"

"First of all, not that you know of," he points out, hand extended at me. "We've only been dating for like...almost five months. Second-"

"Right, which is why this is ridiculous!" I snort in poor humor as we start talking over each other. "This-"

"-I didn't use, I realized it wasn't worth it, and then Devin called, and-"

"isn't healthy. We...I need a break!" I announced, which shuts up his rant and leaves him with one word.

"What?" he asks, dropping his expressive hands and stopping his pacing to look back at me on the bed.

"This...this isn't working," I breathe, mind going crazy. "I need space, I need a break!"

"Rach, honey-" he tries, voice now soft...almost a beg.

"Just...go," I defer. "Please."

"So, what, we just like don't talk?" he asks next, sounding dumbfounded. "For how long?"

"I don't know," I huff back, clinging onto the blankets still.

So he paces again, exhaling loudly as he struggles to figure out where the fuck we stand.

"Are we like, seeing other people then, or-" comes finally, taking me off guard, and I don't even want to think about answering that.

"I don't know!" I answer with annoyance heavy on my voice. "This isn't some Ross and Rachel type shit, so just do whatever."

"Just 'do whatever'?" he presses. "Am I supposed to sit around while you 'do whatever'? Wait for you to decide what the fuck you want? Wait for you to come back from fucking other guys, or-"

"I just need time to think," I interrupt, looking back out the window; the birds are gone...so is the sun.

"So, let me get this straight..." he starts slowly, calm, even though I know it's an angry calm. "I let you back in after-"

"This isn't the same," I snap, knowing he's going back to the overdose, back to the time he made Devin tell me he was done, until I showed up on set, of course.

"-you nearly OD, and-"

Yup, there it is.

"I have a career now, Robert!" I use as a poor excuse as I think about tomorrow. "Okay, I'm leaving tomorrow anyway, and you're going to Canada this week. And that...that wasn't an addiction-"

"It was an addiction," he corrects, and that sets me off again, after finally calming down.

"It was a habit. Which I kicked easily!You," I spit, glaring daggers at him, "you're a real fucking drug addict and you always have been!"

And as soon as the words slip, I regret them. Just like Thursday.

But he's quick to respond, and when he looks back at me, he grabs a pillow and tosses it at me, lightly of course, but enough to make me flinch, remembering Charlie. And I submit to it, panicking like I used to as he turns to leave.

"Every fucking relationship..." he mutters, "every one, and this is the first time I try to do the right thing..."

"I'm sorry," I hurry to follow up with, stuck in that place where I need to apologize, where it's all my fault for one reason or another. "I didn't-"

But he doesn't stop. He swings the door open with a thud that shakes the wall and calls back over his shoulder with no sympathy at all.

"Fuck off."


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this isn't like too fast, but I wanted to make sure everyone knew she's kinda comfortable with the things she's already been through on tour and whatever, so they aren't really worth fan girling about every time they happen.

Work helps me focus. It always has. Whether that's working over time, or working on something at home, or cleaning or writing or going on a spontaneous run... Whatever, it just keeps my mind busy, and that's what I need. 

I should be more excited that I have an actual CD coming out. Like, not a full album, sure, but something like this...something that is just me, on store shelves. I mean, the single CD for Every Breath You Take was insane enough, but to have this out there now...even if it's a limited amount of copies, it's out of this world and just terrifyingly awesome to me.

Devin and I proofed the CD jewel last week but I meant to see what Robert thought. But that was before...before the drama. I still can't process any of it, and I don't think I ever will. Right now I'm in that stage where everything reminds me of shit. I'm just sad, depressed, but functioning because my contract says I have to.

And that gets me into this routine of doing whatever Devin throws at me. She's got this down, cramming my days full of promotional stuff for that last few days of August and first few days of September. Three interviews one day. Another day of signing at a book store, then another of photos with fans at a local department store... I go through the events as if I'm not really living it, and I wish, God I wish, I could enjoy it.

I fake the smiles for the interviews and for the fans and people who come to see me. I fake the happiness about a few merch designs Devin goes over with me that she wants to put up on a store on my website. Instead, I'm living for going back to my hotel and getting a glimpse of what Robert's been up to in Toronto from online.

The first few days there's just a couple photos with fans. The next he's attending some movie press conference with Jimmy, looking suave as ever. It's like he never had that fight with me. No, wait, it's like he wasn't affected by it. He doesn't care. His anger was real, I guess, and he's moved on in only a few days. Maybe I should, too.

And then phase two hits when I'm doing the last round of interviews the day before the EP drops. Anger.

There's a small session with a few magazine writers who want to get the scoop on my life, where I came from, whatever. I'm left alone in a room with them while they scribble down answers and leave their recording devices on the table in front of me.

"So," the man asks. "Did you ever think you'd be able to release something like this?"

"I had a dream to be a singer, yes," I confirm. "But it didn't seem like something I could acquire."

"Did you always want to work with Eclipse?" one of the women asks, the blond, and I shake my head.

"I didn't really have a favorite. I know that sounds bad, but like I said, I didn't really think I'd make it this far, so I didn't want to get my hopes up."

And then the red head speaks. "So the tour must have been a big surprise then, yes?"

"Very big. It started as one show, and then out of left field came that offer to open," I sigh. "But I feel like it helped me a lot. It helped me grow, as an artist, you know? I did some writing, got comfortable with the stage..."

"Speaking of stages," the blond pipes up again. "We heard there's a rumor you might be taking the stage at the AMA's next month."

Oh, that's right. Usually they're November, right? I thought so. But when Rob sent over details to Devin, turns out they're mid October this year, which threw me off. And, yes, I've signed everything and sent it back, but it hasn't been like...announced yet. Am I allowed to announce it?

I turn to Devin, watching from behind a clear window, who nods encouragingly, so I guess that means go ahead?

"I...am..." I tell them with another forced smile. "Not by myself though. I'll be a special guest."

"Can you tell us who?"

I think for a moment before deciding to let Rob have that one. "I think they should be the one to tell you."

"Is it Sting?" the guy asks, and I shake my head. 

"Nope!"

"Is it RDJ?" the red head asks with a raised eyebrow, and I swallow, my breath catching as I struggle to find an answer to that.

This is the first time I've been asked about him, actually. Turns out this city, unlike LA, is more concerned about music than gossip, which I've loved. Even if I don't consider myself country, just kind of...acoustic something or other for now...they embrace all sorts of entertainment here. It's a breath of fresh air. That's what he calls it, isn't it, when someone treats him for him and not who they see online?

Shit, stop thinking about him, that doesn't matter anymore.

"No," I answer shortly, trying to keep my shaky voice level as my hands start wringing in my lap out of habit.

"So the rumors are true then?" the guy asks, and I stare at him, confused.

"What rumors?"

"You two split up," he offers back without missing a beat and I just blink, trying not to panic as he explains. "He interviewed earlier today and said...this..." he slowly informs me as he pulls up a video clip on his phone and slides it across the table to me.

"So you've been here a few days now, but your leading lady is missing," a nicely dressed woman states, holding a microphone up to him somewhere outside.

There's a back drop, looks like he's walking some sort of make shift carpet. But it's just a film festival, so it isn't a big big deal. He's just got jeans and a t shirt on, his sunglasses and his hands tucked in his pockets. But Lord, does that shirt do him justice...

"Right," he answers shortly, looking down as he hobbles back on his heels.

"Is Rachel here?" the woman presses, and he cracks his jaw.

"We...are on a break."

"Oh. Want to comment on that?"

"It's personal, really, so..." he answers sharply, and I know, just know, he's glaring at her from behind those dark tinted frames.

"No?" she asks again, hopeful, but he dismisses her.

"No."

I swear, if this was my phone I'd be hurling it at the wall. How freaking dare he. 

But I can't. I have to focus, to end this interview, be professional. The anger stage...yeah, it wants me to be better than him, and not show my feelings like that. He's always been so private. So personal, and yeah, okay, maybe he hid details, but he shouldn't have said anything! Forty eight my ass, he still acts like a child. And yes, I know I do too sometimes, but come on...I'm a lot younger.

Anyway, the guy waits patiently for my response and I force a smirk, trying to play it off.

"He's always full of jokes, you can't trust a thing he says," I fake. "He is an actor after all."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure that this ins't an interview about my boyfriend, yes," I answer shortly.

They take the hint, and the rest of it goes back to music.

Immediately afterwards, I check my phone, and he's been calling. Dumb ass must've realized what he did and is trying to make up for it, but I don't want to deal with it right now. Instead, I try my best not to squeeze it into pieces and just hit the power button as I join Devin in the car to take us back to the hotel. 

And of course, there's press outside, jumping on this. This is the first time I've been attacked like this. I mean, it's not many, but it's a couple, and it's enough to scare me. I don't have security. Robert's usually my security.

The group of four or five are shouting questions about Robert at me, and I figure it must've been easy to find me after his big announcement. I've been in the city all week, with public appearances announced, and it's easy to know where I'm going to be. So I keep my head down and push through, until I go to open the car door and one of them steps in front of me, nearly shoving me out of the way to shout a question into my face.

And I snap inside.

_"You leave and we're done," he says, voice chilling me as he calls after me._

_His feet pound on the wooden floors, making the boards squeak and echo across the old house. There's no carpets, so it seems louder than it is._

_"Fine," I mumble, half to myself. "Then we're done."_

_But he's quick to stop me, and before I reach for the door handle, he's closing it with his hand, stronger than me. I stare, chills creeping down my spine as I wait. Wait for a strike, or a grab, or his hands anywhere I don't want them._

_"Let me rephrase that," he whispers, pressing himself up against me and pinning me there. "You're not going to leave, because we're not done."_

_"Let go of me, Charlie," I answer coolly._

_"Come eat dinner," he argues. "It's almost done. Then we'll go to bed."_

And suddenly the door being opened in my face is enough to draw me back, pushing the guy from the paparazzi away. He stumbles aside, and then my arm's grabbed, but it's a warm grab, and it pulls me into the vehicle, pulling the door shut behind me.

"Are you insane?!" Devin snaps when we start driving. "I'm hiring security. That's it. This is getting out of hand."

"They knew about him," I whisper, still in a trance. "He fucking told everyone, he told them we're not talking, and then that guy...that guy, that's what Charlie did, and..."

"Okay, breathe," she instructs, and I nod as she places her hands on my shoulders. "I'll kick his ass, but I need you to relax. Charlie isn't here. He's still got a year and seven months in jail. Everything's fine."

But everything isn't fine and I lay down in the back seat after another second, laying my head in her lap and not caring what she thinks.

"I know it sucks," she sighs, patting my hair aside, the motherly instinct in her that she occasionally has coming out. "I'm so sorry Rach. I hate that you're hurting, and I hate that he did that to you, and-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask finally. 

"Tell you what?"

"When he came over, he said he told you he called his dealer. And you didn't tell me..."

"I just wanted you two to work things out," she sighs. "I told him not to bring it up yet, to wait until you both calmed down to talk. But he just...is a guy and doesn't listen."

"I was so mad at you."

"I know," she laughs. "I kind of figured that's why you didn't talk to me those first few days. And you can still be mad at me, now."

"I'm not mad," I sigh. "You're the only one still around."

"That's not true," she disagrees.

But I counter. "I'm not good enough for anyone, Dev."

"You're going through a rough patch in that field right now, yeah, but look at everything else you have going on for you!"

"These people who claim to be fans only exist because of your promotions," I grumble. "And the press only likes me because I feed them info on Robert. But I don't want to tell them anything because once I do, it's real. And that's it."

"So don't say anything. I'm here for you, I'm going to do what I can to keep your mind off of it...and I'm sorry. For trying to keep that a secret, by the way."

"It's okay," I sigh.

When I get back to the hotel, I sink into bed and dial someone I should be talking to more often, but haven't.

"Hey, mom," I sigh when she picks up and I try not to explode on her or start crying.

"Rach!" she sings. "How's the big city?"

"That's New York," I answer. "I'm in Tennessee."

"You know what I meant," she jokes. "Are you ready for tomorrow? Big day! I'm heading to the store right after work to get a copy."

"It's only being supplied at Target," I remind her. "But I doubt anyone's gonna want it, anyway, so you'll be safe..."

"That's not true," she scolds.

I don't answer though, because that's not why I called. Actually, I don't know why I called. I just know that I needed to talk to someone that wasn't Devin or...or Robert.

"So do you want to fill me in?" she asks delicately after a few moments of silence, and I feel a wet tear slip down my cheek before wiping it away. "I saw the interview."

"His?" I ask dumbly. "It's nothing..."

"Doesn't sound like nothing. You sound pretty shaken up."

"Yeah, I had an incident with some cameras today, and..." I sigh, loudly, hugging one of my pillows into my chest. "We're uh...we had a fight," I whisper.

"It'll be okay," she promises, but I interrupt her before she can go further.

"I don't know that it will be," I admit. "It was bad. And I can't explain it, exactly, but...I just don't know what to do."

She sighs, and I wait, no sure of what else to say. Until...

"Do you love him?"

"Yes," I breathe. "But it isn't that simple."

"It can be," she answers lightly. "That man is so in love with you I don't think you'll need to look for anyone else. If you need time, I think that's good. That's something you never did with Charlie. And I think that's why you know you still love him. You want to make the right choice."

"I can't go back to him after he...well, basically embarrassed me on social media, I'm sure," I groan. "He's never wanted the spotlight on his personal life, and he just blabbed about it anyway..."

"People make mistakes," she tells me. "Take some time apart, cool off, than talk to him."

And as I toss that idea around in my head the next day, I'm drug to Target with Devin to get a copy of my own release. She makes me take a picture at the small, one row display, and films me buying it on my Instagram live. I try to look happy, for the future days when I look back on this...but I'm too busy replaying my mom's advice.

Until my phone rings, and it isn't Robert for the first time in a while. It's Rob, actually, and I'm gladly answering it as I go through check out and give a fake smile to the person at the register who holds up the album to my face to do a double take.

"Hey, long time no talk," he teases right off the bat and I feel happy for the first time in ages...only a little bit, but it's something.

"I'm sorry," I sigh. "I've been so busy!"

"An EP, I see that! Congratulations!" he celebrates.

"Thanks," I answer sheepishly, and wait for him to ask about Robert like everyone else has been doing.

But he doesn't. "So everything's all set for the AMA's. We're dropping a new album next year but still too early to release anything from it so we want to kinda get everyone hyped about the classics again. Got any favorites you wanna do?"

"Tons," I agree easily. "Uh, maybe something with piano? Would help broaden my range a little bit."

"Mmmm, one of the ballads?" he offers.

"Yeah. Yeah, any of those would be great," I confirm as the cashier hands me my receipt.

"Cool. Well, let's start rehearsing in a couple weeks, I'll let you know where we get booked when I get back into LA."

"Sounds perfect," I agree.

So that's fun. And I'm excited for that...or I try to be. But it's hard when the other Robert keeps calling me. Keeps calling, at least twice a day, but I don't answer.

Mid September rolls around and Devin has me signing autographs to mail back to apparent fan mail that's been showing up at home. She's gotten me a PO box now, so it gets filtered out, but hey, I'm happy to send back stuff! It's another distraction, and I love reading the letters of support. I used to do this, so I totally get how hopeful they are that something comes back.

But while I'm working in my living room, she comes sliding in, landing on her ass which makes me laugh as she startles the cat on the couch.

"I'm not even helping you up, you deserved that," I tell her, and she shamefully pulls herself up.

"At least it made you happy. Sort of."

"Sort of," I agree.

"But guess what!"

"Uh, you just realized you have legs," I shrug, going back to signing a photo.

"First week sales came back in and you sold almost 50,000 copies!"

"How the fuck is that even possible?!" I ask, jaw dropping and focus on her as she sits next to Aero.

"I don't know! Most came from online sales, but who cares, it happened, and you're going to be picked up for sure once a label sees this!" she yelps.

"Are you sure?" I ask, stunned. "Maybe you read and extra 0 by accident."

"I'm sure!" she insists.

I stare at her, trying to process, and then I nearly jump, as well, when my phone buzzes on the table.

"Still?" she sighs, and I nod, silencing it once Robert's photo pops up on the screen.

"Yup."

"Answer it."

"Not answering it."

And I don't answer at all until late September, when I'm back in LA after hanging around at home and doing some writing and some shopping for a dress to wear to this award show thing and I'm about to do something incredibly stupid to transition from anger to my third stage: self reflection.

I only pick it up to stop this. I'm tired of it ringing, of not being able to have it on.

"Call me again and I swear to God-" I snap right off the bat, going to end the call as I walk into the store, but for some reason, I cling to his voice.

"Rach! You answered," he sighs, but panics when he hears me fumbling with the phone. "Hey hey hey, don't...don't hang up, okay? Please?"

"I have shit to do," I growl back, still fuming from the interview, despite what time I've had to settle since. "And now damage control thanks to you."

"All right, listen, I'm sorry. Okay, I fucked up."

"Yeah. You did," I agree.

"It caught me off guard, and-"

"Caught you off guard?!" I gasp. "What about me, who had to find out that her boyfriend publicly announced to the world that they are thinking about breaking up, while I was mid interview?!"

"Boyfriend?" he repeats hopefully, focusing on the only positive thing he could from that statement.

"Ex boyfriend," I quickly correct.

I don't mean it, though. I'm just angry. Ready to stop hurting. And my emotions get the best of me and speak for me.

"Rach, look, I'm sorry," he repeats. "Don't say that, don't-"

"Yeah, you're sorry about a lot of shit lately aren't you?" I snarl, then take a silent breath, not wanting to cause a scene in front of someone who might report back to the press.

"I know," he answers, plain and simple.

"Just...leave me alone, Robert," I say quietly, finally feeling defeated. "If you want to fix this, let me have my time."

"So we can fix-" he takes from that, but I'm not ready to agree to anything.

"Don't!" I beg.

"Okay," he sighs. "Okay, yeah."

And then the lady at the counter is handing me a clipboard to fill out and I take it to a seat in the corner, focusing on answering the basic questions about myself while I wrap this phone call up.

"I have to go," I whisper next.

There's a hum in agreement as he accepts it, but neither one of us hang up right away. There's a shared silence, full of nothing but my tapping of the pen on the paper in my lap as I space out, tracing the store name: Rogue Tattoo. And then...

"Rach?"

I take a deep breath, feeling calm for once. "What?"

"I love you."

My lips tug up in the slightest, but quickly back down as I sigh, not knowing how to respond. I love him too...I think...or maybe...maybe I can do this on my own. I'm doing this on my own. Finally, something for me, not relying on someone else. I've been getting bolder and bolder every day, so maybe this is how things are supposed to be...

But part of me still cares, and I at least give him a little bit of softness for the time being.

"Bye, Bobby..."


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this last filler chapter because next chapter's gonna be all over the fucking place. Sorry in advance for any severe emotions.

"You got a tattoo?!"

"Yup."

"Are you crazy?!"

"Yup."

"Why?!"

"I dunno," I shrug. "It's not a big deal. I've wanted to for years."

"Yeah, I know, Swiftie, fan girl, whatever. But you actually did it and you didn't even tell me!" Devin pouts from the couch as I sit with my feet up on the living room table, the black heart on my foot now on display.

"I just decided to go yesterday," I shrug, scrolling through Twitter. "Again, not a big deal."

It is, though. I'm always like this...rebellious, needing to do something drastic to attempt to make things better. It never really does, but I guess there's a part of doing dramatic stuff that thrills me, kind of makes me feel like I'm resetting, starting off new again...

"Did it hurt?" she asks next, and I shake my head.

"Nope."

"Did you tell Robert?"

I sigh, dropping my phone as I decide to stand and remove myself from the couch. "Nope."

I don't want to talk about him at this point. He's at least left me alone, which is exactly what I asked for, but at the same time, I was hoping there'd be...something? I don't know. Just some kind of gesture. Guess that's why guys think we're crazy, huh? Always wanting the opposite of what we say...

I spend the next week or so in my room, for the most part. No errands, no leaving the house. I don't even really want to be here, since it's what Robert gifted us, and I don't want to be linked to him at all anymore, but it's fine. I can manage. Devin likes it, so that counts for something I guess.

It's like everything reminds me of something, you know? I spent some time outside, watching the waves roll onto the sand far down below the hills. My only thoughts? The time Robert and I attempted paddle boarding in the ocean. Devin invited me to Nobu with Ezra, but I didn't bother going. The very essence of it reminds me of him. Shit, even the act of reaching for a coffee cup in the kitchen leaves me in a trance, unresponsive for a moment before I decide against even drinking the stuff.

But eventually I have to get back on track from my mini vacation and when I emerge from my room about a week before the awards to meet Rob and the band for our first rehearsal, Devin's jumping up from her seat at the dining room table, closing her laptop.

"Holy shit, you're going out?!"

"Just rehearsals," I tell her, knowing she's assuming it's a date or something with Robert.

"Oh." She sounds defeated. "Well, that's something. You need out of that room."

"I'll be back after we're done for today," I answer, ignoring her comment as I grab my bag at the door.

"Why don't we go out later, then?" she asks. "Come on, we can go anywhere you want. Into town, that place on Sunset that you like..."

"That place on Sunset is where Robert took us and I don't like their food anyway," I mutter.

"You know that's a lie," she groans, running a hand through her messy hair. "Look, I love you, but you're being a total bitch recently."

"Excuse me?" I snap back, and she takes a breath.

Low freaking blow. It's only fueling my anger.

"All you've done is sit in that room moping about a stupid fight that happened over a month ago!" she rants. "Okay, I get it, he almost bought drugs, what the fuck ever!"

"He's an addict," I growl back. "Remember when you hated me for the same shit?"

"I didn't hate you," she answers, "I stuck fucking by you and helped you until you got better. He makes one mistake, doesn't even use, and you're treating him like the damn plague! How many more hoops does he have to jump through to make you realize he isn't Charlie, you still love the man, and don't actually want this break up?!"

"I don't know what I want!" 

"Yes you do, you're just running away at the first sign of trouble."

I stare at her, conflicted. Yeah, maybe she's right. But the other way means I get upset, I get let down. This, being alone, is easier.

So I take for the door and grab the keys to the stupid car we still have borrowed. "Don't wait around for me," I tell her.

"Just make up your damn mind and stop dragging him along!" she yells back, but I slam the door shut in her face, not wanting to hear it.

And I wish I could cool down on my way to meet the band, but there's still energy coursing through my veins when I pull up to the address they gave me, which is really more of like this awkward warehouse building and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna get kidnapped, but screw it at this point.

But inside, it's nice. It's open, a big, well lit space, with panels on the walls for sound. Must be rented out for this kind of shit on the norm, because it seems like they've prepared well.

"Hey!" I hear from the side when I enter. "You made it, awesome."

I turn to see Rob emerging from the shadows, reminding me briefly of all the times I stumbled in on Robert's set while I was in Atlanta. I shake the thoughts clear of my head and follow him after he waves me on to where to drop my things.

"So good to see you again," he grins with a surprise hug and I blink, processing as I set down my phone and bag.

"Yeah, you too," I respond after clearing my throat. "Sorry if I'm a few minutes late, my roommate and I got caught up in something."

"Ah, apartment problems?"

"Uh," I think, "guy problems, I guess."

"Oh," he comments, frowning and folding his arms over his chest, displaying his fit arms under that long sleeved black pullover nicely. "So you two..."

"Don't wanna talk about it," I answer with a pressed, very fake smile, and he nods. 

"That's fine," he agrees nicely, "but can I just say one thing?"

Normally, I'd snap at Devin or my mother for asking to push this, but I'm finally a little worn out from earlier and I don't want to lose his respect this soon and blow my chance at the awards, so I wait for him to go on.

"I admire you for keeping a professional head with everything. But...I had a buddy who was supposed to marry this girl he met in Canada. Sweetest guy, didn't deserve any of what happened."

And that makes me feel bad, because I guess I can relate...that's what everyone else is telling me, anyway. That I deserve to be happy, whatever.

"Fought with her one day before she went to work and he got the call an hour later. She was hit dead on in a car accident and that was that. Dude never forgave himself."

I simply stare, not really sure how to react. Until he places his hand on my shoulder and his lips tug up.

"Let's go test out some songs, yeah?"

Sighing, I agree, and he introduces me to the rest of the band and hands me a bottle of water before huddling us around and picking a few to rehearse and decide on. We eventually settle on one of my favorites a few days later, and I know he knows why...but he lets me have my last word.

Yeah, I've decided. But I haven't said anything yet. But he's right, Devin's right...I can't keep dragging Robert along, so I have to make up my mind.

But now I'm too focused on the actual award show itself. I'll skip the boring stuff, the nerves leading up to it, the final rehearsal the day before when the hall itself leaves me stunned. I've been here before, with my aunt and uncle for some fundraiser or another, but that night, Nokia theater seemed bigger than ever before, even while empty.

I barely sleep that night, nervous for many, many reasons. The performance itself, knowing I'll have to face Robert's reaction afterwards, and who knows what he'll say. It's been a couple more weeks since that phone call, now mid October, and we haven't talked since. I did see a short video online, though, from when rehearsals started... I guess he went to an NA meeting in Santa Monica, somewhere down PCH from our houses, and was spotted leaving. The paparazzi got on him as soon as he tried to go to his car, despite being hidden under one of his weird fedoras he loves to wear that I somehow miss.

But he doesn't seem like he appreciates it at all. Instead, he's opening the driver's door, glaring at the camera in his face, but keeps his voice steady and not aggressive.

"Yeah, hi," he says with a short gesture. "Listen, I'm gonna leave now, so you're gonna get out of the way so I can get my car out. Cool?"

I almost laughed at that, knowing he can kind of be an ass with the paparazzi sometimes, but I'm too scattered for that right now.

Anyway, the day of, there's a knock at the door, and despite my better judgement, I answer it, to none other than Jeanne herself, holding a garment bag in a dress shape.

"Hi!" I greet, confused yet trying to sound happy to see her. "I uh, I didn't know to expect you, or-"

"I'm just making a delivery," she announces with a smile, holding out the bag to me. "Robert had a designed downtown make this up for you back in June. I went to take it to the house but he said you lived here now, so..."

"Oh," I manage, blindly taking it despite my better judgement. "I already have a dress though..." I sigh.

"I won't be offended if you don't wear it," she tells me.

So I thank her and go back to my room, unzipping it to reveal a form fitting, champagne dress with detailed beading in a silver and gold floral pattern and an off the shoulder neckline. It's beautiful. It sparkles in the right way, and I know he wanted to show me off on my big night, judging by the way it should hug my body. And I want to wear it, I really, really do. But at the same time, I really don't want to link myself to Robert tonight.

"I say wear it," I hear from the doorway, and when I turn, Devin's coming in with her truckload of makeup, ready to start getting me ready for the afternoon. 

"But I already have one," I counter, and she shrugs. 

"So do a wardrobe change for the performance."

"We didn't discuss that though," I protest, and she raises an eyebrow.

"You'll be fine. It'll take two minutes, tops, and I'm sure your buddy will let you use their station to change."

"If I wear this," I sigh, "he's gonna think he's won."

"Has he?" she asks. 

She knows I've decided, she's told me that several times. Begged me to tell her what my plan is, but I told her I couldn't think about this before the award show, so I'd tell her after. In truth, it was just something to buy me time...because I'm still conflicted, which isn't good. What if I'm making the wrong choice?

"Dev, I can't spend my life trying to be better for a guy," I finally respond. "I did that. I chased Charlie, I spent my life focusing on him and not myself. And now I'm focusing on myself. So...when I tell him...I'll tell you."

"Sitting in your room isn't exactly living," she mumbles.

"I know," I agree. "But I needed that time. And now I'm okay."

I think. Maybe.

She reluctantly agrees and does my hair and makeup, putting my hair up in a loose, curly bun at the base of my neck. It goes the best with the was the neck is cut, and so does my necklace, the diamond from Robert, but I don't want to wear it...not tonight.

Devin's got a black dress on, short as well, but strapless and cut out in the back. Apparently she managed to get another ticket squeezed in, because at rehearsals, my seat as marked off with two to the side, and I'm assuming that's because she's bringing that guy along. I should really focus on meeting him. Maybe I have been too holed up to be polite.

Anyway, that doesn't matter now. What matters is how shaky I get when she tells me she has a car lined up and we're going to be driven there, dropped off, just like the times I went with Robert. This is the first time she's been on the carpet, too, so I know she's nervous. But she refuses to put the manager ordeal away, so she won't admit to that. 

The car ride itself is awkward, because I want to make conversation with Ezra past a hello and an apology for the way we met that night Robert and I fought, but I'm too busy reminding myself to breathe as I stare out the window.

"You got this," Devin tries to cheer on when we arrive, and I wish she was right, but I just stare at her like a deer in headlights.

"You go first," I argue when the door handle is grabbed from the outside, and she sighs and agrees, bless her. 

Like...do I stop for fans? Do I keep going? None of these people want me, right?

But there they are, lined up on both sides of the carpet at drop off, and as soon as I step out of the vehicle, there's a surge of things being shoved into the aisle in hopes that I go for it. I look back at Devin in hopes of some reassurance, but she's got my phone up and probably doing some live stream, so I fake a smile and decide to grab their pens, unlike Robert who uses the same one, and start going down the line.

It's stunning. Shocking. I know I did signings and stuff, but this is an actual world broadcast event, without Robert. They are here for me. And they want photos and autographs and suddenly, I forget any ounce of sadness I had and embrace it the way I was that release week in Nashville, and I have an actual smile spreading across my lips. My incredibly glossy lips, thanks to Devin, but still...

"Rach, photos!" she suddenly calls when I get about half way down the line, and I glance at her, then shake my head, keeping my vow to never let the fans down.

"I'll go when I finish here," I tell her, and she playfully sighs, shaking her head behind the phone.

When I do reach the end, there's a jam at the photo tent, so she drags me to an interview which doesn't go well, but doesn't go that bad, either. It's a reporter from ABC, since that's the network it's airing on, and she's quick with the compliments.

"You look stunning, very flashy but elegant!" she offers, and I bite.

"Thank you," I smile, looking down. "It was a gift, actually."

"A gift from your special guy?" she tries, showing her perfect white teeth at me.

I nod slowly, trying to remain neutral. "Yeah..."

"He didn't tag along tonight?"

"Not with me, no," I answer truthfully. 

And she lets it go, asking about the show instead. "So even though you're not nominated in any categories," the interviewer reminds me and I feign a smile politely, "we have heard that you're going to be joining a guest on stage?"

The smile becomes more real as I think about it and try to push down the nerves. Carefully, I tuck a lose strand of hair behind my ear and nod.

"I am. I...well, it's crazy, really, but I actually ran into Rob Thomas while Sting and I were on tour," I answer.

"Ah, so we finally have an answer!" she celebrates. "Matchbox Twenty!"

"I honestly don't know if I was supposed to tell you that," I laugh. "But it feels a lot better letting it out of the bag!"

"Sounds like you just attract all of the Rob's," she jokes and I glance away, feeling my blush creep in.

"I guess you could say that."

"Well have a great time tonight and good luck," she smiles, signing off of us, and I thank her.

Devin's got me quickly back to the carpet after that, and it feels like release week all over again. I feel bad for Ezra, having to follow her all over the place.

"So, I really need to pee," she whispers to me as we walk and I blink, confused.

"Why didn't you go at home?!" I scold.

"I did," she hisses back. "But then I drank that big water bottle in the car, and now I have to pee again. So...go ahead with your photos, and they'll lead you to our seats inside. I'll meet you in there?"

"I...you're leaving?!" I asks suddenly.

"Yeah, if that's okay," she nods. "I ended the live back before the interview so I'm not needed here and...and I don't wanna be uncomfortable all night next to Ezra, so please...please be cool, this is our first like date, date."

"You've been to dinner before!" I argue.

"First public date! Weren't you - never mind," she decides, quickly shutting up.

I sigh, knowing she was going to reference Robert. "Yeah, I was nervous to be out in public, I get it..."

"I'll meet you inside in like fifteen minutes, okay?" she asks, and I nod slowly before it's my turn to walk up to the part of the carpet with the AMA decorated backdrop. 

The cameras flash and I am pretty basic with my posing, just hand on hip, smiling, turning slightly, before walking off. I don't care about the photos much. It would have been better with Robert. But that's not gonna happen, and I have to suck it up.

Everything around me has me looking around wildly, hoping to make sense of the chatter and all the people and all the paparazzi. I hang onto the clutch I've brought, hoping to not fall on my face or do anything embarrassing, and thankfully, I'm shown to my seats inside by someone with a clipboard with all the names and faces and specs of the important guests. It's kind of cool, I guess, to be recognized like that, but now I'm trying to remember everything in my head.

After Carrie Underwood performs, I'll be escorted back stage to meet up with the band. Then we'll prep backstage while they hand out the next award. We'll quickly set up during commercials, and then we're on once the feed comes back. After that, I can either leave or go back to my seat and finish the show, but there's only gonna be a few more guests and awards, so depending on how this goes, I might slip away.

Apparently our seats are just right of the stage, about five rows back, and Devin's still not there yet, so I take an end one, looking at all the insane names around me, and try not to have a panic attack as I tuck my dress under my ass and sit. Only a couple seats are filled so far, us getting here a little too early, but that's okay. Less worry that I'm going to do something stupid in front of one of my idols.

Breathe. You got this. Things are going to go smoothly. You're one of the first in here, people are going to start filing in soon and you'll just be one of the crowd.

And soon I'm joined, and relief washes over me for just a second as someone scoots in from the other side and takes the seat next to me. But it isn't Devin, it isn't Ezra, and my night just got a whole lot worse.

"What are you doing here?!"


	60. Chapter 60

"What are you doing here?" I ask, staring at the man in the black suit and light blue dress shirt peeking out from underneath the jacket from my seat.

"Okay, don't freak out," he starts as he sits and I fiddle with the beading on the end of my dress in panic.

"Welp, can't do anything about that...this is Devin's seat, by the way," I say with a tight jaw and a held breath, and he sighs, placing his hand on mine on my knee.

"Rach..."

I snap my focus there at the touch, the first in nearly two months. It's electrifying, just like it used to be, and it's making me long for more, but I can't cave that easily. So I tear my hand from his, shooting him a glare. Shooting his...incredibly gorgeous, perfectly groomed face a glare.

God, why does he have to look so damn pretty all the time?!

"No," I state calmly. "I told you we're taking a break and you still have the nerve to call me and now show up here and-"

"Devin asked me to come," he tells me. "Which is also why she traded seats for somewhere on the other side of the room."

"She did what?! Why would you listen to her?!" I groan. "In case you forgot, you were supposed to be dating me and not her but all you do is talk to her anymore."

"Hey, keep your voice down, please," he asks of me as the room starts filling with people he probably knows, as if I owe him anything. "She's your friend and knows what's best for you. And I already RSVP-ed."

I nearly snort with laughter. Rude, but whatever. I'm pissed. I wanted to enjoy this. Enjoy this first thing for myself, with my friend, and that's it. And now she's on the other side of the room somewhere, and I'm stuck, here...

"So what's best for me is you?" I mock. "You, a coke head who can't live on his own?"

He takes a deep breath, calming himself. I can tell I've hit a nerve. And yeah, I do feel bad. I shouldn't be so aggressive. But he shouldn't have come.

Thankfully, he plays it off.

"She knows you are more nervous than you'll tell anyone and she knows you only confided in me with these types of things. Plus, I do red carpets and award shows all the time, so you're in good hands."

"I'd rather trip on my heels on stage and crack my head open," I snap. "Okay, you don't get to do this, you don't get to..."

I can't find words as much anger quickly shifts to sadness from the overwhelming emotions. I stare back at my hands and away from him as we wait for the show to start, not wanting to deal with this.

"I'm just here to support you," he tells me.

"You embarrassed me in front of the world, Robert. And right after lying to me."

"I didn't lie, I just didn't tell you right away," he tries, pulling his best Tony back out to defer, but it doesn't phase me.

"You still fucked up."

"I know." He sighs, sitting back in his chair. "I know, okay? I'm sorry."

And now Rob's words are still in my head...his story about his friend. Devin's follow, reminding me that I'm trying to run away. I guess it's my fault for cutting him out, and part of me softens up a bit, but I still wanted my space tonight.

"You know I'm performing," I remind him, and he nods.

"I know. I'm looking forward to it."

"With him."

His jaw tenses at this and he stares straight ahead, not wanting to acknowledge it...until, "I know."

"So you really are jealous? This whole time, just like I thought, but yet another thing you've lied to me about so why am I even surprised..."

"No," he defends, and that's it.

"God, Robert, he's married. There's nothing to be jealous about!"

"You know what marriage means these days," he answers blandly. "Especially for celebrities."

"Oh," I laugh in disbelief. "So if I married you, you'd sleep around behind my back?"

He glances at me, his mouth down in a frown, and I swear I see pain in his eyes. "If you married me, I'd be the luckiest man on this Earth."

I swallow down the butterflies that hit and force myself not to fall for it. He's an actor, he's playing me.

"We're not together."

His lip twitches, but thank God they start the show so I don't have to discuss it further.

I mean, you've seen award shows, right? It's pretty self explanatory. It's awkward, though, because next to me a few seats over is P!ink. And then in front of us somewhere Kelly Clarkson. There's so many more big names, but I'm trying to fit in and not fan girl, all while feeling the tension nesting in the small space between Robert and I.

I guess Devin lied, because there's only two seats for us here. Must've been her little trick, setting this up and...well, fuck. That's why she told me she had to pee, isn't it? Nothing to do with her date.

It's kind of cool, though, seeing all of these amazing people perform here. I don't fit in. I shouldn't be on this stage like they are. These artists are all award winners, with millions of fans and a major record label deal. I'm barely anything.

So when they cut to a commercial and I get to finally leave my own personal, silent hell sitting next to Robert, I start to panic, realizing this is the first time any of these people are going to see my perform live. This is going to be my stepping stone. My entrance into this world, if I want it. My way of showing I'm worthy, without Robert's name. I need to push him and the nerves out of my head and focus on the song...despite the message I'm going to be sending.

I don't give him a smile or a kiss goodbye when I go to head backstage, and I bet people are curious about that. I barely even look at him. But I'm sure he's able to play it off as something else, so I'm not worried. Instead, I'm quickly thrown into the necessary equipment and lead up to the dark stage that is out of camera focus for the time being. They'll light it up once we're announced and they return from commercial.

"Good to go?" I hear from ahead of me, near the front of the stage, coming from Rob himself, and I nod, taking steady breaths.

"Yeah," I agree. "Yeah, I think so."

"Just, think about rehearsals. You did great there," he offers, trying to keep me from getting too nervous, and I close my eyes and nod slightly.

And before I know it, we're announced, and the opening bars to their classic song starts, Back 2 Good.

"It's nothing, it's so normal," he sings at the microphone, eyes closed and hanging onto it as I start my chords on the piano and his band backs us up. "You just stand there, I could say so much....but I don't go there, cause I don't want to."

God, I hope I've decided right...

"I was thinking, if you were lonely, maybe we could leave here and no one would know....at least not to the point that we would think so," he continues after a bar.

I push myself to take a breath aside my own mic mounted at the top of the piano, and then I'm singing background vocals for him on the bridge.

"And everyone here, knows everyone here is thinking 'bout somebody else... Well, it's best if we all keep this under our heads. And I couldn't tell, if anyone here was feeling the way I do..."

I'm too scared to look out at Robert right now, or anyone for that matter, so I just keep my focus on the blackness of the piano I'm seated at and stay in my little bubble.

"But I'm lonely now, and I don't know how to get it back to good..."

Rob starts up the next part, but I'm taking it half way, so I have a few minutes more to keep my heart from jumping out of my chest before it's just me singing alone.

"This don't mean that you own me, well, this ain't no good, in fact it's phony as hell...yeah, but things worked out just like you wanted to," he finishes, then backs up to let the lights fall on me.

Okay, don't fuck up. Don't miss a note. Don't miss a key. Performance first, emotions later. Focus.

"If you see me out, you don't know me," I sing, delicate. "Try to turn your head, try to give me some room...how to figure out just what I'm gonna do."

I hold out that last note, high, just like they wrote it, thank God. And then he's back to accompanying me, so I'm not alone on vocals.

"Cause everyone here, hates everyone here for doing just like they do... And it's best if we all keep this quiet instead. And I couldn't tell, why everyone here was doing me like they do... But I'm sorry now, and I don't know how to get it back to good."

There's a bridge where the band sings the backing vocals, nothing actually lyrical though, and then we get into the dramatic part where the tone shifts just a little. This is the reason I love this song, though.

"Well everyone here, is wondering what it's like to be with somebody else," Rob sings alone. "And everyone here's to blame, and everyone here gets caught up in the pleasure of the pain."

And here I go again, closing my eyes to make sure I hit this right. "Everyone here hides shades of shame, yeah but looking inside we're the same, we're the same, and we're all grown now, yeah, but we don't know how..." I let out an artistic sigh. "To get it back to good."

After a few more bars, we split the last part again, him going first and allowing me to end the song.

"Well everyone here, knows everyone here is thinking 'bout somebody else. And it's best if we all keep this under our heads..hell our heads, yeah."

"See I couldn't tell, if anyone here was feeling the way I do..." I finish for him, and then it dies back down to simple, light music. "But it's over now, and I don't know how..." I shake my head at the piano, still too fucking conflicted to look out. "Guess it's over now...there's no getting back to good..."

The background vocals pick up again as we finish out, and then there's applause, similar to that of the tour, and they quickly rush into announcing what's happening after the next commercial break. And when I finally look out to the audience, he's standing, applauding, and he looks proud. He's supporting me even if I'm trying to push him away...

"That was perfect!" Rob celebrates, stealing my attention as he lays his arm across my shoulder and escorts me off stage, me shooting a final glance out at the guests.

 

"Are you sure?" I ask, " I feel like I was kinda pitchy."

"Nope, all in your head. Watch the playback later, you'll love it."

I sigh in relief as we're stripped of our equipment backstage. "Thank you."

"Thank you for playing with us," he counters. "I'm glad I ran into you back in Vegas."

"Me too," I smirk.

But then he waves his hand around at the band. "We're probably ditching to go to the strip, want to join us? Could introduce you to the missus."

I fake a smile and let my shoulders drop, not feeling it right now. What's wrong with me?"

"I think my manager's got something planned for later," I lie. "But please, keep in touch!"

"Will do," he agrees, giving me a hug, and then I'm on my own, and I resort to finally texting Devin as I make my way down the backstage hall.

R: catching a cab to the hotel, you two take the car

I'm not in the mood to go back home and I know she booked two rooms at a hotel downtown just in case that happened. I'm mad at her, but I'm energized by that performance, and I don't feel out of place for the first time. I just feel...comfortable. Comfortable here, among these people who respect me, that want me around, that don't make me feel bad about myself. I've made it. I've reached my dream, and it's only going to go up from here if I play my cards right. Maybe next time, I'll be here for an actual award and not just to play...

D: don't be mad. talk to him. please?

R: no.

D: whatever, just...you did good, just now. don't do anything stupid, we're flying back to PA tomorrow, remember?

Fuck. That's right. Somewhere along the line here, I lost track of time, and I'm supposed to be going to my grandmother's birthday party, and then directly into Pittsburgh again for that convention. Shit. I really have been out of the loop, and now I feel like an idiot. I'm not prepared for any of this. Thank God she's keeping my schedule...

R: that's tomorrow?! it's...

fuck, it's october.

D: see you in the morning.

But my focus on my phone as I wander to the back entrance allows me to run into someone easily, and I groan when I catch my phone mid air, that little bit of shock when you feel like it's the end of the world and it'll break washing over me.

"Sorry," I stutter, looking up to the person I bumped into with a small apology.

But to my dismay, it's the only person who can break my heart in half just by sanding in front of me. His hands are in his pockets, and he smiles, but it quickly fades.

"Rachel," he breathes, looking relieved, for some reason.

"Robert..." I nearly whisper, not sure what to say. "You're not supposed to be back here."

"Yeah, Devin said you might try to slip out, so..."

"Right..." I mumble, realizing she would've taken over necessary step for her plan to work.

"I just wanted to make sure you knew..." he starts, picking his words wisely. "That song...You were spectacular. Fits your voice well."

"Thanks..." 

He opens his mouth to talk and then closes it again, finally letting a hand out of his pocket to scratch his head while he thinks. I know it's coming...the confession. The same way the phone call ended, in something I don't want to talk about. And now it's worse thanks to that song.

Then, finally, "I miss you, Rach..."

"Robert..." I protest quietly, and he shakes his head, looking sad.

"I know. I know I fucked up but...it's been two months. I'm still clean, I've been back to NA and AA meetings still, if that means anything..."

"I saw..." I mumble, noting the paparazzi photos that were taken of him attending that one night.

"I should have never let you leave," he adds, eyes screaming, begging for forgiveness, but I can't let myself fall that easily...

"We talked about this..." I warn.

"I know, but you won't answer my calls, and...I should've come to you then, even if we were broken up, so I'm coming to you now. Because I don't know what to do, and seeing you here...in that dress..."

His eyes scan my body and I sigh, not wanting to cause a scene even though the passerby's have probably already eaten our interactions up.

"I already had a dress. Devin made me wear it."

"It looks just like I thought it would on you," he attempts to compliment, and I raise an eyebrow in return, not sure if that's a good or bad thing. "I get it...I get the song, the lyrics...but it doesn't have to...we don't..."

"I'm not talking about this here," I tell him.

"Then go out with me," he insists quickly, hand reaching out to place on my arm. "Please, let's end this break."

"Robert, I'm not coming back that easily."

"So there's a chance you will," he muses out loud, then goes back to serious. "Just one date. And if you don't feel the same about me, I'll let you go for good, break or no break, I swear..."

My heart is beating faster with each word because I know damn well I still feel the same about him. But I can't. Like, actually can't.

"I'm apparently flying home tomorrow," I tell him sadly, then pull my arm back from his grasp. "I'm sorry."

"Wait!" he begs in a hush. "Then...now. Let's go now."

"We're in the middle of a live broadcast," I blink, reminding him.

"I know, but you did your part, and don't try to convince me you were coming back to your seat. Let's go for a walk, through the strip. We'll go to one of the parks or something."

He knows I'm not going to react right away, so he presses.

"I gave you a chance after rehab because I love you. I agreed to take a break because you said you needed space. Please, Rachel...just toss me a rope here."

"Fine," I groan, knowing this means we're pretty much back together, but I'm going to fight it. "But only because you begging isn't your best look."

He sighs, obviously relieved. "Do you...I can wait, if you need to tell Devin, or..."

I shake my head carefully. "Already told her I'm going to the hotel, don't feel like being the third wheel anymore."

The amount he relaxes at this is insane, and he nods toward the back door, hands back in his pockets. "Come on, we can stick to the back roads, shouldn't be too many people out this time of night."

I follow in my heels, the chill of early fall settling in as the air blows gently. It's still particularly warm for New York in the fall, but hell, I'll take it.

The first few blocks are spent in silence. It's awkward, I think, but then again, I'm lost in my own brain, trying to push away the memories and keep those dark few days of the break up fresh in hopes of staying away. But God, he looks so handsome in his suit, like he always does. The stubble is back on his jawline, but faintly...still trying to stay clean for that movie he's supposed to be working on.

And then after we pass a small group of people who don't acknowledge us, he speaks up.

"When you left," he starts quietly, "I didn't think I could do it without you."

"Robert," I sigh, "I can't be the only reason you're sober."

"See, that's the good thing, you're not!" he insists, turning his body toward me, though his hands are still in his pockets. "But I thought about the last time you left, and Rach, I was so scared you were going to go back to yours, and my nerves just got to me. As soon as Devin called I told her the truth. I never went through with it."

"Then why did you even call?"

"I thought I failed you. And I did, but...then when she told me you were okay... If you were okay, I could force myself to be okay, too. If it meant you were happy... Aside from just wanting to apologize, anyway... So I went to a couple NA meetings, just to revive my drive, you know?"

I sigh, hating the thought of him thinking that.

"I wasn't happy," I tell him honestly, shivering lightly when the wind openly hits me once we reach the edge of the block.

"You weren't?" he asks, taking his jacket off and draping it over my shoulders, leaving him in just his dress shirt.

I accept it, even though I shouldn't, but don't look up...if I meet those warm eyes of his now, I'll be too far gone. "No, I was heartbroken."

He stops walking, forcing me to turn toward him and finally see his solemn face, distraught and...well, heartbroken himself. He swallows uncomfortably, his brown eyes dark with emotion, and then shakes his head slightly, staring down at his own feet.

"I fucked up," he repeats, and I force myself to push past this.

"I'm fine now. Got used to it, you know? Being alone again..."

He glances back at me, looking dejected, and nods, picking up his pace to a brisk walk to cross the street after switching side so he's near the street and I'm near the buildings.

Then we're walking in silence again, through the tall buildings of LA. There's a couple down an alley, making out, and a guy strumming his guitar on the corner somewhere. A couple birds land at our feet as we near an abandoned parking lot, and that's when he talks again.

"Are you hungry? We can find somewhere that's still open," he suggests, and I shake my head.

"No, thank you. I should get going soon anyway..."

"Let me take you for a drink, then," he offers.

"You don't drink," I counter.

"No, but you do, and-"

"Robert," I finally interrupt, soft and...yeah, slightly sad. I let one hand rest on his arm and we slow to a stop. "It just didn't work out, okay? Sometimes shit just happens, and even as much as we really want it to, it just doesn't work..."

I can barely hear myself saying this but...I decided and I thought he would've gotten that from the song choice.

"So, what, we're just breaking up for good now? That's it? After five fucking months of getting here, getting to the point of being in the public eye, and now we're just...done?"

He sounds angry, and I don't blame him.

His eyes scan mine when I finally look up, and my heart sinks. He's desperate, I can sense it. He's hurt, pleading, needing, all at once. And it's my fault.

"At least dance with me," he asks finally, holding out a hand after stepping back into the alley a little bit; a precaution, in case we're spotted. "Please, just one more time, like we used to."

"There's no music," I protest, and it kills me with each breath I take in.

"So I'll hum something," he rushes to offer. "Just...a happy thought."

A sigh. "You are the strangest little man..."

"I know. Only for you."

I blink back tears as I feel my eyes start to sting, knowing he's going to break me all over again, but I give in, accepting his hand and letting him pull my waist toward him, starting to softly sway in the stillness of the night.

"Tell me you don't feel the same," he whispers into my ear, sending shivers down my back as his warm hands heat where they're attached to me.

"I-"

But he doesn't let me answer.

"Tell me you don't think about that dance, in Malibu. The one for the foundation. Because I do, all the time."

"Robert," I beg, pulling back so I can see his face, my lip trembling. "Stop."

"I wanted to kiss you then and I couldn't," he whispers, hand tightening in mine and his eyes scanning me. "Because I knew you were with him. But if I did...God, it would've been like that first kiss you asked about that first week we were dating."

"Please don't," I whisper, blinking back tears as I look away.

"Because I loved you then, when I barely even knew you, and I still love you now, when I miss you more than I can explain."

A tear escapes my eyes and trickles down my cheek and he moves our hands to catch it with his thumb.

"I should've come after you," he tells me. "I should've come to you instead of my old habits. And I'm going to be damned if I let you walk away for good," he finishes.

He flicks his eyes to my mouth and I feel my heart flutter, wanting nothing more than to give in and kiss him senseless and forgive him and pretend like it never happened. But I can't, can I? He didn't use, sure, but he would've....he would've if... But I would've too, and I did. Maybe not this time, but before, and he saved me, no questions, no second guesses.

My thoughts are interrupted when he leans in slightly, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to try and kiss me. He's close, and I can feel his breathing. And then...he brushes past my jaw and whispers into my ear again, and I sigh, more frustrated than anything.

"Please don't be the one that got away, Rach..." he whispers, and our dancing slowly stills after that.

I can't control my tears, and another couple fall, and he pulls back to catch them, mouth slightly parted as he watches me struggle. His hand lingers on my cheek, and without a second thought, I lean into his touch, familiar and warm and comforting.

"I'm crazy about you and I know you're crazy about me too," he tells me, and he's not wrong.

"You told me if I ever went back to them, we'd be done. It goes both ways. We agreed, Bobby," I whisper, closing my eyes in a silent battle with myself, and I can hear his voice lighten at the nickname I let slip. 

"I didn't use, Rachel. I swear on my life. If I had, I wouldn't be here begging you to come back."

I sigh and smirk slightly. He's right. He's never, ever begged me like this before. He's never been this vulnerable. But neither have I.

"I don't want to get hurt again," I admit, and I can almost hear his heart break.

His hand travels down my cheek and to my shoulder, then down my arm to grasp my hand again. He lifts mine as he intertwines our fingers and I open my eyes again, watching.

"They still fit perfectly," he observes, smiling sadly, then flickers his eyes back to mine, burning into my own with care. "I'm not going to hurt you."

I swallow nervously as the butterflies form, and I feel that familiar burn of desire swirling in my stomach. His eyes, his dark lashes, the curve of his nose...everything is so familiar and welcoming, and suddenly, I let my guard down. I feel my heart pick up speed, beating unevenly as he shifts forward, and I suck in a breath, holding it as his eyes move between my lips and my own, back and forth until finally, he leans down just a small bit. He hesitates, waiting for me to flinch back, but instead, I close my eyes, waiting for his touch, and then it finally comes.

He kisses me, delicate and warm, his five o'clock shadow tickling in all the same places I remember, and it's like a million emotions come flooding back at once. I squeeze my eyes closed tighter, fighting the urge to pounce on him, until he releases me after just a few seconds of a lingering touch.

"I'll walk you to the hotel," he says in acceptance, and I know he's afraid to find out what I thought, what I'm feeling. "You lead."

So I cling to his jacket around my shoulders as we walk, his hand in mine the entire way. It's like I've forgotten, completely unaware that we're still touching, but I blame my mind for being so focused on what I'm going to do.

God, he's right. He still has my heart, and I think he always will. Mine's beating out of my chest, the fresh taste of his cigarette stained lips and the feel of his stubble against my chin still prominent, as though he's still kissing me. And it scares me. It scares me to want this, because God, if we almost broke up that easily... But it scares me more to think we can work through this, unless I chicken out. And hell, do I want him back. I haven't had him off of my mind since the break up, and the spotlight doesn't help matters on that. It killed me to turn down his calls and his messages and...

"Can I walk you up?" he asks, interrupting me when we approach the fancy hotel downtown.

There's people glancing at us, probably wondering if we're back together, just like I am. I shake my hand from his and he frowns, looking dejected, but I blush and quickly reassure him by pulling the jacket closer over my shoulder, making it look like that's all I wanted.

"Just to the door..." I decide, "nothing more."

He nods, silently walking in and boarding the elevator with me, and I know how suspicious this is going to look. I focus on my thoughts, trying to organize them. I have to say goodbye. I have to stop this, I can't fall for this game again. But goodbyes kill me and I'm so tired of hurting...

As my heart beat nearly stops from panic, the elevator opens on my floor and I lead him down the hall to 242, sliding the key card Devin gave me earlier in and turning on the light. My memory briefly flashes back to that first time we had sex, how he took me by surprise, but he doesn't do that this time. He's given up, just like I have.

I turn toward him in the doorway, faking a smile and looking down. There are no words, just a sad exchange of quietness as we both agree, and then when I look back up, he's pulling me in for a hug that lasts far too long, killing me slowly as my heart breaks all over again. He holds me close, chin on my shoulder, until eventually, time continues and he places a gentle kiss on my cheek.

"I still love you, Rachel Thomas," he whispers into my ear, and my throat hurts from fighting back tears. "Always will."

When he lets me go, I feel like crying, but force myself to smile at him, silently wishing him a goodnight. And then I'm closing the door, holding onto the doorknob even after it clicks. I swallow down the pain, but it doesn't stop the tears, and I can't take it. He's leaving and that's it. There's nothing else I can do, I decided this, I can't change my mind now...

But I can't imagine him with someone else. Can't think about watching interviews where he talks about someone else or a project he's working on that I don't know about. Can't try to say it'll be okay to keep watching his movies and pretend there was nothing between us. He isn't Charlie, he's so much better. He's exactly what I need. I still fucking love him too, and it was such a stupid fight, and...

"Robert!" I call after tossing the door open again and stepping into the hall.

He hasn't boarded the elevator yet, and he tilts his head up, giving me a sad puppy dog look with his hands stuffed in his pockets as he waits for it to climb to our floor.

But when he realizes I'm crying again, he furrows his brow and looks fully up, turning his body my direction.

And we stand there, sharing an understanding look in the hallway, until my feet are propelling me forward and toward him. He pulls his hands from his pockets just in time for me to hit him full force, me tossing my arms around his neck and my mouth pressing against his, my lips on his in an emotional attachment.

"Don't go," I cry against his mouth, and on command, he's blindly walking us backwards down the hall, back toward my open door.

"I'm here," he tells me, speaking into our kiss.

"Just one more night," I beg, desperately kissing him. "Please."

"Just one," he agrees, and we're stumbling into my room, him closing the door behind us.

"And then that's it," I mumble.

"Then we move on," he confirms, walking me back toward the bed.


	61. Chapter 61

There's no words exchanged all night.

It's pressed bodies, laying back against the mattress. Breathing his air, hands under his clothes and my shoes clattering to the floor. His lips on my neck, his hands squeezing, grabbing at my waist and my chest and my leg as he lifts it around him. God, how I missed his hands...big enough to cover the side of my neck but delicate with their touch.

He's needing and emotional but gentle and slow, and that pendant of his that he always has tucked under his shirt is cool against my collar bone where it settles as it hangs from his neck; I'm too absorbed to bother moving it. The sound of crinkling sheets, ragged breath, and sloppy kisses echoes through the darkness as he moves his hips, keeping everything else in place against me, pinning me under him.

Once sweat starts to glisten on his forehead and my nails as nearly breaking skin on his shoulders, he breaks our kiss to tuck his head down into my shoulder, just like he used to. And to muffle my short gasps, I take his earlobe in my teeth, tugging gently, and the groan he lets slip just before he releases sets me off, too, leaving us in a shaking mess.

It's several moments before he moves to clean himself up in the bathroom, probably trying to prolong this moment as I hug his body to mine. But then he disappears and I let out a long, deep breath as I lay on my side, clutching the sheets over my chest while my heart's beating out of control for so many reasons.

When the light flickers off again and he wanders back over, he ducks to pick up his shirt from the floor, and I don't think, I just act. My hand reaches out for his arm before he tries to shrug it on and start getting dressed, stopping him in the act. And I don't need to say anything...his eyes read me in the darkness and there's a silent agreement; we'll wait for morning...tonight's not over yet.

So he drops the shirt and climbs back into bed with me, holding me from behind as he settles in as the big spoon, his chin on my shoulder and his thumb caressing the hand his is holding until I drift off into sleep.

There's no dreams that night. Just quiet, calm sleep. And when I wake, I breathe in slowly, letting my sleepy eyes blink open and adjust to the sunlight from the window across the hotel room. I'm still exhausted, not getting enough sleep at all, but I'm comfortable. I'm warm.

And then I realize my hair's being pushed from my forehead delicately, a soothing pattern, and when I let my eyes travel up, they meet those familiar brown orbs, the warm chocolate tone melting me.

"Good morning, gorgeous girl," he whispers, but he looks sad.

I smile, taking in a breath and closing my eyes again for a few seconds. I must've repositioned myself at some point during the night, because now I'm tucked under his arm at his side, hand draped over his abs.

"Hey..." I whisper back, feeling safe.

"Your flight leaves in a few hours," he reminds me, and I nod against his shoulder.

"I know..."

"I didn't want to wake you, but you should probably start getting ready..."

I can tell he just doesn't want to talk about it. Doesn't want to address the night before. He's scared. Afraid to be rejected. Holding onto that small memory of happiness as if it's the last, but...fuck.

"I have to go," I whisper back, and blink my eyes open again as soon as I tell him.

He takes a breath in, holding it as his bright eyes fade. "I know... So this is...this is it, huh?"

I study him for a second and then make my decision, sighing heavily, but he keeps going before I can announce it.

"I just want you to know how special you are," he tells me carefully. "...how happy you've made me. Don't you ever, ever think that you deserve anything other than the best, okay? I still mean what I said last year..whether that's in your career or in your personal life...don't settle. Find something that makes you happy, please...because your happiness is priority."

I want to stop him, but I'm getting too emotional, too choked up to find my words. And then his hand is on my cheek and he closes his eyes, his dark lashes still obvious against his tanned skin.

"I just want you to be happy, but I never thought that'd mean saying goodbye to you. I thought....fuck, I thought we'd make it, you know? I thought everything was going so well and-"

"I still love you, you idiot," I interrupt, feeling a huge weight lift off my shoulders.

His eyes flicker back and forth over mine, searching for explanation, but I can't find anything else to say. So without warning, he pulls me in to press a big kiss on my lips, squeezing his eyes shut in the process and letting his arms lock around me and hold me against him.

"Stay," he begs, leaning his forehead against mine when he pulls away. "I love you, and anything...anything you want me to do, you name it... Okay, we'll fix this, we'll fix us... I promise on everything that matters, my life, my family, my career..."

"Promise me something else instead," I request, and he nods.

"Anything."

"Stop begging me, it's killing your image," I say with a laugh, and then I'm quickly engulfed in a big bear hug, his legs tangling with mine under the sheets and the breath nearly squeezed out of me. "Hey, be careful!" I manage, and he loosens his grip just a little bit. "I forgot how much of a child you are..."

"Give me a break, I've been through hell here..." he mumbles into my hair.

"There's a lot we're going to have to work through but...this is home, not Pennsylvania, not Nashville, not that empty bed at the house... You are home..." I whisper.

"So you'll really take my sorry ass back?" he asks gently.

I nod slightly, my head nestling against his pecks. "But no more breaking up over a stupid fight."

"Never," he agrees easily. "I'm so sorry. I had a hot head, and-"

"It's okay," I sigh, content. "I'm sorry, too. But I really do have to go...I promised my family I'd make an appearance at their get together, and then I have that convention in the city..."

"Okay," he agrees reluctantly. "But..."

"...But you could...you could come with me, if you want..." I offer.

"I'll clear my calendar," he agrees, kissing my cheek. "I love you."

"Love you more..." I whisper, feeling everything fall back into place as he loosens his grip, aside from keeping one arm around my waist as he holds me against his bare chest.

"You mean that?" he asks with hope and I nod, breathing in his scent - stale cigarette, cologne, and sex, at the moment.

"Never stopped," I admit. "I tried so fucking hard cause I was so mad at you, and I thought I finally did, but..."

He inhales sharply and kisses my head, a deep breath following. Then, "are you sure we have to leave today? Let's just stay... we'll stay in bed...I don't want to change this. I just want to hold you and talk with you and make love to you all day..."

"Checkout isn't until two..." I muse softly.

"So we have a little time," he agrees, and then he's pulling back to capture my lips one more time, this one slow and intimate and everything that I've been missing.

And before I can react he's shifting us under the covers until he's hovering over me, my hands sliding up his chest and around his shoulder as he finds my tongue and I let a small moan slip. This is comfortable. This is my happiness.

Until there's the sound of a key card being swiped and the door swings open, revealing the sound of Devin's voice.

"Rach, come on! I can't do this alarm clock stuff forever and we gotta go soon, they're holding the plane and we still have to get your shit from home - oh sweet Jesus!"

She spins around the instant she notices I'm not alone, and Robert ducks his head into my shoulder giggling. So I let out a sigh and gather the sheets around me and sit up.

"Dev," I start, but she's refusing to look.

"You ever hear of putting a sock on the door?!" she yelps. "I mean, this is great, I wasn't expecting you to be ready for something new at all, but..."

"Devin," I repeat, and she's taking a big breath in.

"What?"

"First off, it's safe to look, we're covered."

Her shoulders relax a little and then she's carefully peeking a glance and I guess she notices it is Robert because that changes her whole outlook on the situation.

"Oh thank God, it worked!" she celebrates with a clap of her hands. "Are you back together?! Please tell me you're back together!"

"We're back together," I confirm and she's too happy about it.

"So no more depressed and boring Rachel?!"

"Nope," Robert chimes in, running a hand through his messy hair. "Now uh, this is great and all... catching up, whatever...but I think we were gonna have sex again, so if you wanna..."

He motions toward the door and I roll my eyes.

"I'll be down in a minute," I promise.

"Uh huh...sure..." she stammers, pulling out her phone as she wanders to the door. "I'll just have them delay the plane a little longer just in case..."

I can't help but laugh as the door closes behind her, until I'm pulled back down to the mattress from behind and I'm suddenly back in place under Robert's weight.

"So where were we?" he asks, voice husky as he pushes the hair from my face and I bite my lip. "Good Lord, are you beautiful..."

"We should go..." I whisper, knowing it isn't what he wants to hear.

"Just let me look at you a little longer," he answers, eyes scanning my face. "I missed you, Rach..."

I smile slightly and close my eyes, taking a breath. This is insane, it really is.

"You're thinking..." he observes. "I don't think I can handle another change of mind, so-"

I chuckle lightly, blinding feeling the muscles in his shoulders as my hands slide up his torso. "I'm not...I'm thinking that this is crazy. That this guy that I never thought would even know I exist just begged me not to leave. I'm not that important..."

"You are to me," he disagrees. "You make me want to be better. And after these last couple of months...you make me so proud of how far you've come. It's inspiring."

"You were keeping tabs?" I ask, eyes opening again, and he smirks, guilty.

"Couldn't help it. Needed to make sure you were doing okay..."

Sighing, I decide just to pull him down to me again, but nothing sexual. Just...a hug. A hug I've needed since that fight, and I think he can tell, because he lets me get comfortable holding him, and breathes steadily as he squeezes back and lets me have my moment.

"All right, we can hold off on round two until later," he decides after a few seconds, sensing my emotions getting the best of me and shifting the mood. "Let's get you home and packed."

So we agree to get out of bed, and as much as I want a shower...I'd rather just wait until we get to the house, to use my own shower.

"We can conserve water..." he suggest, and I kindly shake my head. 

I know this isn't what he wants to hear, but we still need to talk, and as okay with being a couple again as I am...I need a little time alone.

"You can take one," I tell him softly. "Let's just...take our time. You know, until we can talk things over..."

He looks dejected but still winds up taking his, needing to shave, and thanks to Devin bringing some essentials along, he's able to use my razor for the time being. And then he's redressing in his clothes from the night before as he reemerges some minutes later to me sitting on my phone on the bed.

"Shit..." I sigh, realizing she only thought of bringing me a spare set. "This is gonna look bad..."

"What?" he asks, buttoning the shirt back on.

"Twitter's already sharing our photos from last night, wondering why we weren't together..." I groan.

"I didn't interview," he points out. "As far as they know I was running late."

"Yeah, but I told them you weren't with me...everyone's been confused as hell since Toronto..."

"Which I said I was sorry for," he says with a furrowed brow as he tugs on his dress pants next and I shoot him a small glare.

"I know, that isn't my point."

"Then..."

"You're wearing the same clothes as last night. They'll know."

"What, that you went to a hotel with your boyfriend?" he asks in good humor. "Sometimes that happens."

"But it's so obvious," I say, embarrassed.

"That we had sex? So what? Couples do that."

"No one knows if we even still are a couple..."

"So why don't we show them?" he asks, grabbing his jacket and fishing out a pair of sunglasses from the pocket; of course he'd be prepared. "Come on, where's the confident side of you you've brought out?"

"She's intimidated by you," I tease, taking the hand he holds out to me and grabbing my bag from the foot of the bed.

"Don't be," he reassures. "I saw you handle the paparazzi in Nashville. You're on my level now, especially after last night."

"You're a billionaire," I counter. "I haven't even hit a percent of that much."

"Wait till you get paid for those EP sales," he smirks. "I bet your net worth breaks a mil."

"Are we really comparing ourselves on net worth?"

"No," he laughs, opening the door to lead me to the elevator. "You are. In terms of popularity, we're on the same level."

"Not true," I argue when we board.

"You don't agree with anything I say, do you?" he asks with a raised eyebrow, and I blush when he takes my hand in his, fingers interlocked, and raises them to kiss the back of mine. "I love you anyway."

"I agree with that," I grin, but the doors open and I try to push my butterflies down as we exit and drop the keys at the registry.

And then we're walking out, hand in hand, and our course there's some media waiting...after last night and the photos of us arriving at the hotel that someone from the lobby snapped, there was no doubt where we were staying. The cameras are flashing immediately, grabbing photos of us as we walk out to the car out front. Questions being thrown at us asking if we're back together, which neither of us answer. But it's okay. It'll be okay. We'll pick up right where we let off...happy, content.

I duck into the vehicle before him, his hand moving to the small of my back to usher me in, and then he's following, making sure the door closes and locks behind him as we board the back of the town car.

"The power couple finally arrives," Devin teases from her seat, and I shoot her a look. "What?!"

"Power couple?" I repeat. "Hardly."

"That was pretty quick," she jokes. "Losing stamina in the bedroom, there, old man?" she continues leaning over the center to tease Robert.

He gives her a raised eyebrow in return. "Hey Devin, where's this imaginary boyfriend I'm hearing so much about?"

"Not imaginary," she scowls. "Check the photos from last night, he was there!"

"Uh huh," he grins, then pulls out his phone and starts typing away, probably rearranging for the week...I bet he's supposed to shoot and didn't tell me.

"So," Devin muses, beaming at me. "You guys-"

"Dev," I hiss under my breath. "It's a long story, and I'll tell you when I figure it all out. But this isn't all perfect and great. Shit happened, it affected us, and we're gonna have to figure out how to deal with it."

I feel his hand warm my knee from my side and sigh, placing mine over it. 

"Okay," she agrees. "Well, I'm flying back with you, going to spend some time there. But I'll leave you two at your family thing and regroup for the convention."

"Thank you," I saw with a small smile. "Seriously, I know I was a mess and I haven't been paying attention to things I need to do, so I'll start being better about that... You're honestly the best manager I could ask for."

"Does that mean I get a raise?" she teases, and I smirk.

"Maybe..."

She spends the rest of the car ride going over finishing touches with me on the convention. It's weird, knowing people I know from home are probably going to stop by...I really hope that isn't the case, but you know how life is... 

At the house, I hop in the shower quickly, asking Robert to pack me some stuff to last a week and a nice outfit for the convention, and pray that he doesn't pick the skimpiest thing in the place. But I'm trying to have renewed trust in him, so this is where I start doing that, right?

Devin packs up Aero, getting him prepped for the plane ride. The poor boy hated flying at first, but since we've been able to use my uncle's jet, things have gotten a lot easier for him. He stays in the carrier, usually, but he's grown used to it.

Last stop: Robert's house, to pick up some things there. We let the driver go, and utilize the car he's basically gifted us at this point, driving back to his place before the airport. 

"I'll help," I decide, and after he's out of the car, I turn to Devin in the back seat. "Can I uh..."

"I'll stay here with Aero," she agrees, reading my mind.

So I follow him in, through the familiar front gate, and help him pack by tossing the clothes he hands me into a duffel bag. Then he follows with a couple pairs of shoes, a choice of hats, and several different shades of sunglasses.

"Seriously?" I ask. "I'm afraid to see what you packed me..."

"Just the essentials!" he insists, and I shake my head.

"You are the only guy who needs more than one pair of shoes."

"I need something to match each outfit," he pouts and I sigh, giving up.

"Okay, okay... What else do you need?"

"Uh..." he thinks out loud, heading for the bathroom after reemerging from the closet in comfy clothes and his hands in his pockets. "Razor, after shave, deodorant, some vitamins, hair gel..." he starts to list off.

"Hair color?" I tease and he shoots me a narrowed eye glare before disappearing into the bathroom. "Oh come on!" I laugh, zipping up the bag. "You know, I happen to like that gray at your temple, you wear it well."

"I don't gray!" he snaps back and I sigh.

"Whatever you say..." And then I set down the bag on the floor and shove my hands in the back pockets of my jeans, wandering into the bathroom with a whole new mood: the mood to talk while we have a few seconds. "Hey, so...while Devin's outside, maybe we can talk..."

There's no answer, though, so I poke my head in, no wanting to interrupt, but he's left the door half open, so I don't think it's an issue.

"Shit, sorry," he curses, fumbling with his hands.

"Bobby?" I question, confused when he's standing like a deer in headlights in front of the toilet with them now behind his back.

He rolls up on his heels and raises his eyebrows with fake enthusiasm, then gestures out with one free hand. "Talking, yeah, talking's good..." he stammers.

I narrow my eyes, suspicious at once. "Okay, Tony..." I start slowly. "What'cha hiding?"

"Nothing," he says immediately, which makes it worse.

I hold out my hand, waiting for him to show me, and he shakes his head. "It's uh...it's a gift, for you!"

But I can tell when he's lying. "Nice try. Now hand it over."

"Rach," he protests when I go to grab around him. "Rachel, wait, I-"

But I succeed, and then I'm pulling a small bag out of his hands, the contents white and powdery, and my jaw drops in disbelief as my heart stops.

"Is this..." I start, but can't find any more words as I flash my eyes from him to the bag and back.

"Listen, I can explain, I-" he begs, reaching for me, and I simply crack my jaw, the sudden adrenaline flowing through me, and then there's a loud crack filing the air as I lift my hand and strike his cheek.

He grabs at his cheek on impact, physically trying to rub off the sting.

"Okay," he mumbles. "Okay, yeah, I deserved that..."

"I am leaving and you are staying here, or so help me God..." I whisper, fury coursing through my veins.

Then I turn on my heel, not sure what the fuck I'm going to do with this, but I am fuming. He promised, he swore he didn't...he fucking lied. He lied this whole time.

"Rachel," he tries again, grabbing my arm to stop me from leaving. "Wait, seriously..."

"Do you think I don't know what this is?!" I yell, spinning back toward him. "I might not be a hard junkie but I know fucking cocaine when I see it!"

"Okay, I know it looks bad, but you gotta hear me out," he tries, hands in the air in defense. "Please Rach," he pleads. "I swear to God I haven't touched it."

"But you bought it didn't you?!" I snap. "This whole God damn time, you swore to me you didn't go, you didn't buy, it was just a call. Over and over again, lying to my face! For what?! For sex? To get me back into fucking bed with you?"

"I...I don't know, I just couldn't... Rach, I left it here, in the closet, and I just found it while I was picking things out, and I came in here to flush it, I swear."

"Did you think you were just gonna get rid of it and never tell me?!"

"I was gonna...babe, please. Please, I never touched it. It was a bad moment when I bought it but I got the call from Devin the next day and I promise you on my life I never used."

He takes a breath, his eyes glossy and concerned and he's genuinely begging.

"You make me promise to come to you if I need help, but you don't come to me," I hiss. "And you keep lying! How the fuck am I supposed to trust you?!"

"I'm telling you the truth! I need you."

"I can't fucking have a relationship based on need!" I answer.

"I know, I know..." he sighs. "It isn't like that, Rach. You complete me. You make things better. You help me pull through when I need it even when you're not trying."

I stare at him, dumbfounded and unsure of what to do. But then he's quickly sinking onto his knees, being dramatic and wrapping his arms around my legs.

"Please don't go," he mumbles into my legs.

"Robert, get off," I groan, disgusted at how dramatic this is. Then, I drop the bag on the floor and pry his arms off of me. "Do whatever you want. It's me or the drugs, not both."

"It's you," he states quickly, grabbing it and scrambling back to his feet. "It was only when you weren't here, and-"

"No!" I protest, annoyed. "You're not blackmailing me into staying. Do you know how unhealthy that is?!"

"I'm not...no, Rach, it's you. Okay, I swear, it's just you." Then, softer. "It's always been you..."

"Flush it," I demand. "Right now."

"Okay," he agrees quickly.

And I might've felt more confident in leaving if he would've hesitated, but he doesn't. He picks it up and tosses it in and down it goes, and there's no second guessing.

"So where's the rest?" I ask next, going back out and into the closet with him at my heels. "Huh? Where the fuck are you hiding it?"

"There's nothing else," he tries to tell me, but I'm already tearing apart his shelves, tossing shirts to the floor into a pile.

"Bullshit," I hiss. "Where's your phone?"

He hands it over on request, and I pause to pull up the contact list. "Which one is he?"

He scrolls down to the most obvious name anyone could think of, but I guess I only know him well enough. Julian. So I select it, delete it, and delete all call logs before handing it back to him.

And then I push past him, climbing over the mess I made on the closet floor, and grab my stuff, exiting and slamming the bedroom door behind me. I can't fucking stand him right now. Toying with my emotions like that, making me believe him just to fuck me over all over again.

But when I approach the door, I pass the living space...the same one where we all watched that movie together and I had that nightmare that he helped me get out of. The same place he let me sleep on him when I was sick...

Devin's scolding words echo through my mind from that fight we had before rehearsals and I slow to a stop, growling at myself, frustrated and running my hand through my hair. I stuck fucking by you and helped you until you got better. He makes one mistake, doesn't even use...

Did she know about this? Or did he lie to her, too? How do I know he isn't lying about there being more? How the hell do I trust anything at this point? But how does he trust me? He trusted me not to use and then found me passed out on my bathroom floor. He didn't touch the stuff, right? It looked full.

Carefully, I make sure to settle myself down with a few deep breaths, and then I turn, heading back to the bedroom. I open the door slowly, quietly, and then my eyes fall on him, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. He isn't upset, he isn't angry, he's just...defeated.

"There's nothing else-" he tries again, softly, but I hush him by meeting him at the edge of the bed and resting his head against my chest so I can lay my chin on top of his, holding him in a gentle hug.

And he sighs, hands sliding up my back as he hugs back, relieved.

"We're going to get in the car and wait until we have some privacy to talk," I instruct with a level, yet still annoyed voice. "Is there anything...absolutely anything else you need to tell me?"

"No," he whispers back.

"This is the only time I'm going to ask, Robert," I warn.

"I've told you everything," he confirms. "There's nothing else."

My eyes close as I hold onto him for another second, then let go and go back toward the door. "Get your bag," I call behind me. "And don't say another word about this."


	62. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, a little shorter than usual...

It's awkward...him over there, my over here. Just staring. At each other. He's not sure if he should join me over here and I'm not sure if I want him on this side of the table, honestly. Just...so I can think straight.

Well, let me back up...

The car ride went smoothly, but I know Devin's suspicious. Robert can pull his acting facade out and turn it on like it's nothing, and that's exactly what he did. But for me...it took more than a few deep breaths to stay calm. I rode in silence, staring out the window while I thought about where the hell we go from here...

How do I learn to trust him again? Is he even trustworthy? How do we fix this? 

All I know is I don't want to be separated, I just don't want this drama. I don't want the issues, the fighting... This isn't supposed to be Charlie, this is supposed to be healthy and happy. ...Are we even going to be able to move past this?

"I'll carry the stuff on," I heard Robert tell us when he left the car at the private entrance to the runway. "You girls go on up."

So Devin brought the cat up, who's currently asleep in his carrier, and the second she settled into a seat and I slid into my usual spot at the table, she piped up.

"What's going on?"

"Did you know?" I instantly asked, snapping my attention to her after resting my face in my hands in frustration.

"Know..." she urged me to go on, and I closed my eyes, shaking my head instead. 

"He bought."

"No," she whispered, dismay washing over her face. "I didn't, he didn't mention it when-"

"Okay," I silenced her, not wanting to discus it.

"Are you two still-"

"We're together," I confirmed. "Are we okay? I don't know."

"Did he-" she began, and I knew she was going to ask if he used.

"No," I sighed. "Not that he says. Just...we're going to talk, and then I'm going to take a nap. So if you can just tune out for a little bit...I need to do this now, before I can't control my temper."

"Yeah," she agreed, pulling out her headphones. "Yeah, I'll just turn on some music for now."

And I thanked her and then Robert made it on board before they shut the door to the jet and anyway, here we are, sitting opposite at the table.

"So..." he finally pushes and I sigh.

"So I guess we have to talk...about things..." I mumble. "Set some ground rules, you know?"

"Whatever you want," he answers into his hands, waiting.

I bite my lip and sit back, hating that we have to do this, but I can't just go back to how things were just like that. Maybe before the in between, but between the interviews and his begging last night and just about an hour ago....

"I don't want this to be weird," I decide. "But some stuff just has to change..."

"Okay," he agrees.

"So no more big decisions on arguments..."

"Done."

"No more public arguments, either. Like happy stuff, whatever, but none of-"

"I will never do that again, you don't have to ask me twice," he agrees, interrupting me.

"-that... No more long separations with no contact. I don't need you to talk to me 24/7, but I don't think I can do this back and forth anymore if we're just talking about how tired we are or what's on the schedule..."

"Sure. I can work on it," he promises.

"And no more smoking," I toss in.

"What?"

"You gotta quit," I beg. "You can have the cigars, but the cigarettes..."

He groans, already fidgeting, and finally pushes himself back. "I can try to cut back. I can't just stop cold turkey like I attempted before, it'll kill me."

"Fine, that's...a start," I cave. "Do you have anything?"

"Just one..."

"Okay," I exhale, prepping myself.

"We take a vacation.," he responds with a steady face and I blink, trying to process.

"We...what?"

"Over the holidays, let's go on a trip," he repeats. "Just you and me and the beach somewhere. For like, a week or something. No work, no distractions... Just us...to reset, to be together again."

I watch him closely, but he doesn't falter. He's serious. Lord, an entire week with nothing by Robert Downey Jr and the ocean? No meetings, no shows, no filming...

"Yeah..." I finally agree as I let my hands drops to the table top, because yes, that might be good for us. "Okay..."

He smiles for the first time since the house and his laugh lines are the most attractive thing I've seen, still. His perfect teeth are white as ever, and his eyes look happier than the car. Maybe he's right. Maybe we only need some quality time together, what the hell do I know?

But then he lets his hands find mine on the table and I feel a warm blush creep up my cheeks as he plays with the bracelet I'm wearing...the one he gave me. 

"What else happened?" he asks finally. "While we were apart..."

"Not much," I admit. "Straight into release week...some writing...that fit with the paparazzi you said you saw..."

I shudder at the thought of that day, the memory of Charlie that came up, and he must notice, because he squeezes my hands gently and catches my attention.

"I saw...you handled it well," he compliments. "But what did he say to you?"

"It wasn't any of them," I answer quietly. "It just reminded me of something..."

He nods, listening, but not asking for more. I'm sure he understands, it's been a normal thing, me randomly having episodes.

"Do you still have those nightmares?" he pipes up.

I sigh, lips twitching as I think. "Not really. Maybe one or two, but not like they used to be... Now it's just things that remind me of it. Every so often something pops up and it's like I'm in this stunned state, even if I mentally know it's fine." I swallow, moving on. "I, uh...I kinda just stayed in the house. Then decided to get a tattoo and then rehearsals started, so that took a week, and-"

"Wait, back up," he requests, tilting his head. "Did you just say you got a tattoo?!"

"Yeah..."

"Huh." 

That's it?

"What?" I ask. "Do you not like them?"

"I just never thought my girlfriend would get one before me," he admits.

I smirk at that, amused by the idea of him getting one. "I just...needed to do something."

"I didn't see anything..yesterday..." he thinks out loud, and I shake my head.

"It's on my foot," I tell him as I kick off my shoe and hold it out. "You wouldn't have unless you looked during the awards."

"That's..." he starts, leaning over the edge of the table and observing with an impressed look. "That's kinda hot, actually..."

"It's just a heart," I laugh lightly, and he shrugs.

"Still hot..." And then he meets my eyes again and the small bit of humor fades as he takes a deep breath. "I just need to know... Was there...did you-"

"No," I interrupt immediately. "No, just...you."

"Okay..."

"Did you-" I start, wanting to know the same, but he shakes his head easily.

"Never even crossed my mind," he assures me, earning a slight tug of my lips in content. "I just went to a few meetings, did a few poster signings for Jon, some interviews...we started shooting late last month..."

"What?" I ask, feeling guilty. "Why are you here then?!"

"This is more important," he says with another squeeze. "Plus, I only have those few scenes, he can cut me a break."

I fake a smile and nod, then wind up pulling my hands from his and push myself out of the bench. "We can finish this later...I think I'm going to go lay down for a little bit," I tell him. "I just need some down time, a break from all of this..."

He stands with me but agrees sadly, knowing I need my space. But I don't really want it, I just...I don't know what to do. I don't want to talk, you know? I just want things to fix themselves. Is it okay to just pretend like everything's fine? I want it to be. But again...how do I trust him?

So I head toward the bed in the back by myself and lay on my side, and I realize that maybe all I need is a good cry... It all hits at once and I'm stuck between being angry, feeling betrayed, blaming myself, and missing the Robert I knew before everything started...the fun, energetic weirdo that made me laugh and question his sanity.

But I hear talking from the other side of the wall, and I focus on that instead, wanting to know what he has to say while I'm not around..but it isn't him, it's Devin, I quickly realize.

"Ah ah ah," she scolds. "Not so fast."

"Dev-" he sighs. 

"What the hell were you thinking?!"

"I wasn't."

"No shit!" she growls, and then he must try to work his way around her, because she keeps going. "Nope. Let her have her time. You fucked up enough."

Ha, so she's standing up for me. Of course she would...

"I know. But I'm trying to make that better, and I can't do that from out here. So I know she needs her space, but right now...right now I have to focus on fixing my girlfriend's broken heart, because it's my fault it's messed up," he announces, and I bite my lip as I listen...that's exactly something I want to hear. "I already let her go once, it's not happening again."

Then Devin sighs, loudly, and caves. "Fine. But I swear to God, Downey...you pull anything like this again and I'm calling the cops on your ass and making sure you don't even get a foot in the acting field anymore."

"Okay," he agrees. "I get it."

I sigh and close my eyes, tucking my arm under my head, and stare out the window at the clouds. How am I supposed to see my family tonight like this?

But then there's a shift in the bed, and before I can move, strong arms encircle me from behind, reminding me of last night. There's no words, just silence again, and he holds me against his chest, rubbing his thumb over my shoulder as he lets his hand rest there. His breath soothes me as it hits my cheek, but it reminds me of everything happy, everything I want back, and suddenly I'm trying to hide the fact that I'm crying, the tears slipping out quietly from the corners of my eyes.

I don't know how long I cry, I just know that he's aware, because his grip tightens and he kisses my hair before nuzzling his nose into it, trying to stay as close as possible. He lets me cry, hushing my as a light whisper in my ear, and waits a few minutes before finally speaking up.

"Come on, sweetheart...it's okay," he coos, and I feel my heart jump at that. "Everything's okay...talk to me..."

I suck in a deep breath, trying to steady myself before I speak again. Where the hell do I even start? It's easier, talking when I'm not facing him, so that's a plus for me. Not that it's hard to talk to him, but it's just hard for me to talk about these kinds of things in general after the moment's passed. I cling to him with my free hand, instead, hanging onto his arm as I readjust my head.

"I want to trust you, but I don't know how," I whisper shakily, and he sighs against my cheek.

"I know," he whispers back. "I know. I'm gonna work my ass off to get that trust back, but you just have to give me a chance."

"How will I know you're ever telling me the truth, though?" I choke out, still letting a few strayed tears drop down onto the mattress.

"Well...you won't," he admits. "And I won't force you to trust me, either. I deserve every little bit of whatever you feel toward me. But maybe..maybe, once you see how hard I'm going to work at it, I can make you happy again, and one day I might gain your trust back..."

"I just want to be okay again..."

"And we will be," he assures me. "I'm going to go back to my meetings more frequently. Take regular wing chun classes, get back into my usual routine... And we can work out our schedules so we aren't apart as much, and everything will fall into place."

"It's just not the same..." I sigh. "You used to be so happy, and eccentric, and weird. And it's my fault. It's my fault for breaking up, for leaving... I drove you to drugs again, I fucked everything up..."

And my heart's beating uncontrollably now as I panic and the tears pick up again until I'm sobbing, clinging onto his arm for dear life.

"Hey," he sings softly, and I shake my head into the sheets.

"I'm so sorry, Bobby," I cry. "I let you down. I just let everyone down..."

"Honey," he chuckles softly, throwing me off. "You have nothing to be sorry about. Okay, we just had a lot of shit happen for both of us. You didn't let anyone down. I fact, you've been so strong, so independent, and I'm nothing but proud of you for focusing on your career first."

"Right, like no one knows why I nearly disappeared there... No, I'm the one who fucked up. I'm immature, I'm emotional..."

"You're a girl," he teases. "I expect as much."

"You need someone your age," I squeak. "Maybe then we wouldn't have fought, and-"

"Nope," he disagrees quickly. "We've been over this, and hell, I was more dramatic than you. People fight. It happens. It we didn't fight, I'd be concerned."

"I just miss you...I don't want any of this shit, I just want to be happy, to have fun, to enjoy all these incredible moments with you."

"And you will," he promises. "Just give me a shot and I'll fix everything."

So I finally agree, not knowing what else to say, and I'm just tired of hurting...tired of crying. "Okay..."

"So where do you want to go on vacation, beautiful?" he asks, thumb moving against me again to distract me.

It gives me shivers as I steady my breathing and I follow his lead, just like I did that day we were in the alley and I had to get over Charlie's text. I know he's doing it, but it's exactly what I need right now, so I don't argue.

"Anywhere warm," I manage.

"So I guess London and Paris are out of the question," he hums into my ear and that makes me finally crack a smile.

"Paris?" I repeat, internally freaking out at the mention of that. "I've never been..."

"We can go in the summer," he suggests. "What about Belize? The Maldives? Hawaii, even?"

"I've heard good things about Jamaica," I respond, and the sound of him laughing into my ear warms my heart.

"Ya, mon," he tries in a Jamaican accent and I finally give up and giggle, wriggling in his arms as I laugh. "Jamaica it is," he agrees after laughing with me. "I'll book it this week, on me."

"Fine, but that means no Christmas or Hanukkah gifts," I warn, and he hushes me.

"We have money, relax!"

"But-"

"Nope, I'm spoiling the hell out of you this year. I didn't get to last year, and I hated every second of the season."

"It's my favorite," I tell him. "The snow, the lights, the magic of New Year's..."

"I remember..." he reminisces. "You were fascinated by the lights, the snow..."

"It's calming," I state. "I love it, especially at night. You can go outside and walk through a snow shower and it's just so quiet. Peaceful. Hardly anyone's out, and you can hear the smallest crunch of the ground when you walk and it's just so delicate..."

"Until you get coffee dumped on you," he teases and I groan softly.

"Only in New York..."

"I guess the holidays in LA is out of the question?" he presumes, and he's not wrong...

Not that it's like, completely out of the question... I would just rather have snow. We'll be busy around the holidays, I'm sure, but something about a snowy night...

"Maybe...we'll see."

"Whatever you want..."

"I've always wanted to go to Times Square for the ball drop," I comment, thinking about New Year's next.

"Then consider it done."

He kisses my hair again and I'm starting to loosen up...not because he's giving me these things, or agreeing to them, or whatever, but because he's acting like himself again. He's doing impressions, making jokes, being the same old cocky self he used to be, tossing money around like it's nothing. Maybe things can get better...

"Why don't you take a nap," he offers next. "Sleep it off, reset. When we land we can start things over, forget the past month or two and pick up where we left off."

"Robert-" I start, knowing that can't completely happen.

"I know," he silences me. "I don't mean forget it, I just mean put it aside. It happened, we'll learn from it...but there's nothing saying we can't cure this by moving past it."

"You think we can do that?" I ask, and he nods behind me.

"I know it."

So I take a deep breath and give in, agreeing. "Okay...but can you stay with me?"

"Of course," he confirms. "Devin's kinda scaring the shit out of me right now anyway, so I don't think I'd make it to Pittsburgh if you send me back out there right now."

"She's just doing her job," I point out. 

"I know," he answers. "And I appreciate her doing that while I wasn't around."

I exhale at that comment, and don't know how to respond, so I simply close my eyes and lean into his embrace, warm even without the blankets on. He's my personal heater, my personal comforter. I know the only reason I've stopped having nightmares is because I also stopped sleeping regularly during everything, but now I know it won't matter. They won't come back, at least not as often. I'm safe with him, I'm protected by him...at least from the outside world. Our own problems may exist, but those are between us. He's my shelter from the rest.

"I love you," he whispers after a few minutes of shared silence as I try to drift off to sleep, and my lips curve up as I focus on counting my breaths.

"Love you more," I shoot back, and that makes him tighten his grip on me again, placing another kiss where he can reach, and then I let myself drift off into a warm, soft sleep for the next couple of hours until we land in Pennsylvania.


	63. Chapter 63

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Under the weather so might not update for a few days after this. Will try if I feel better. <3

When the plane starts its decent, my ears start to pop and it wakes me up to an empty bed. So much for staying with me, right? So I stretch, rolling over to my back, and rub my puffy eyes and wait for us to touch down.

Nothing feels different. Nothing feels better. In fact, now it just feels like an even bigger mess than before. Is that normal? Maybe. Maybe I still have questions...

I search blindly for my phone when we taxi the runway, hoping maybe the fans can make me feel a little better. It's nice, having that buffer there. Despite how alone I feel...or felt, really...if I absolutely need it, I can go there. But my phone's not here, it's out in my bag where I left it when we got into the car at Robert's, and I sigh in defeat before pushing myself up off of the small bed in the hind quarters of the jet.

But when I go to move around the dividing wall and join the others in the main cabin, Robert comes wandering back in, just ending a phone call, and nearly runs into me.

"Hey, you're up," he says with a soft smile and places his hands on my shoulders. "I just stepped out to make a call, but I promise it was only five minutes..."

I let myself give him a kind smile and nod, then look down at my feet. So he brushes my hair behind my ear and lifts my face back to him with his finger under my chin.

"Cheer up, buttercup," he teases and I roll my eyes. "Come on, reset, right?"

"I guess..." I agree with hesitation, and he tilts his head as he observes my reaction.

"What's on your mind?"

His brown eyes kill me, soft and warm and his dark lashes outline them perfectly. For a second I let myself relax, and all I want to do is touch him, and I lift my hand to drag the back of my fingers over his cheek, making him smirk as I gently tickle him by accident. He waits patiently, not pushing me to say anything. And that's the first step. Patience.

The second...is opening up, and telling me more than I asked for, which he does next.

"Why? Why didn't you just tell me?" I finally ask, afraid of the answer.

He thinks over his answer while his eyes scan my face, and then frowns while releasing a held breath. "I guess I was scared."

"Of what?" It doesn't make sense; he's RDJ, what does he have to be scared of?

"Telling you. You leaving, thinking less of me," he admits as his thumbs draw circles on my shoulders where his hands till lay. "...Rach, I'm trying my best to be the guy you thought I was, the guy everyone else sees. I'm trying to live up to my name, but sometimes I'm not okay, I'm not fine, and I don't tell anyone that because who'd believe me anyway?"

I press my eyebrows together as I listen, his words tugging at my heart strings. I never knew how insecure he felt. Never knew how strong he tries to be. He's always acting, isn't he? And suddenly I hate myself for nearly giving up on him, and even though I'm still mad at him and don't fully trust him again yet, I want...need...him to know he's not alone.

"I would," I ensure.

And he smirks, blinking his gaze down to the floor for a second before coming back up. "Honey, you expect so much from me, and that's okay, it is. I like that. But I don't want to let you down."

I take a deep breath, pressing my lips together as I focus on tucking a curl of his hair behind his ear. "You need another haircut," I whisper as a joke, which makes him grin.

"Next weekend, I'll call in one of Jeanne's buddies for your convention debut and they can do it."

So I shake my head, amused. "Always dressing me up, huh?"

"You look great all the time, whether you're in your sweats while you're sick on the couch or in that...riveting, might I call it...dress from last night. I just want your first big appearance to go over well."

"Technically last night was my first big appearance," I point out. "I was on TV, remember?"

"Mmm..." he hums, closing his eyes for a second. "About that...I wanted to get you in on this movie, since I was such an ass before...but we had to fill the roles, and-"

"It's okay," I interrupt. "That was so long ago..."

"I know, but-"

"Acting is your thing. I'll let you have it."

"I've sang with you, though," he counters. "So it's only fair..."

Giving in, I decide to end this before it becomes an argument. "Okay, but only if I can be in a scene with Tony Stark," I tease and he chuckles at that.

"Fine, fine...next Avengers movie and I'll work you in as an extra or something." Then he nods toward the front of the jet and squeezed my shoulders gently. "How about we get off of this thing and I'll drive you home?"

"Can we drop Aero off at my mom's first?" I ask, and he nods easily. "And if Devin needs a ride-"

"Called her a car, she's exhausted and took off when I thought you were still asleep."

"Oh, okay," I answer blankly. "I guess today's been rough on everyone...and God only know how late she was out last night..."

"That guy really does exist, huh?" he teases, and I nod, smirking. 

"He does. I don't know much about him, though. Kinda was a terrible friend the last couple months..." I sigh.

"Hey, we're past that," he reminds me, then drops his hands and takes one of mine in his to walk me off, but I protest for a second.

"Wait," I interrupt, having one more question. "Why me?"

"Why you what?" he repeats, confused.

"Why...what makes me so important?" I ask, my last big question. "I know you love me, okay, but...there's so many women out there, so many girls, and I'm damaged, and-"

He sighs, thinking, and then motions toward the bed for a second. "Sit."

I listen, joining him on the edge and he turns to face me, his whole body my direction as he holds my hand in my lap.

"When I was in jail, shit wasn't the best," he starts and I immediately feel guilty for asking.

"Robert-" I try, but he hushes me with his index finger to my lips. 

"I know I confirmed all the stuff the public know, but I didn't elaborate. There were several times I wound up in the medical wing. Several times I thought I was better than everyone else and mouthed off and wound up laying in my own blood from a kick or a punch or an attempted stab, even."

Panic is strong in my eyes, I guess, because he's quick to reassure me that he's okay, even though that was years ago and we both know it.

"Just a couple times on that last one, both minor, but it happened. And so did the other stuff everyone always asks about. It's a very real part of prison, and being the poster boy of Hollywood at the time, I was the target. For everything."

"They..."

"Yeah."

I feel my jaw hang slightly as my heart breaks for him. Why didn't he tell me? When he found out everything about me...he didn't say anything. And now he is? Why?

"So when I say it was my low, it wasn't because of a mess in the kitchen or a top bunk, or whatever. There were several days I wish I could've just died then. Several times I hated myself, hated the situation I was in...but the problem is, it didn't matter. There's no way out, just serve your sentence and once you're released, it'll stop. If I was really elaborate, yeah, maybe I could've made up a way to make that happen. But I was just numb, every time they took me in.

"But hell...who expected that from me? And maybe that's why I kept doing shit to get sent back. It was the norm, it's what I deserved and it's how I punished myself, since my dad never did that for me growing up.

"I guess I just had enough at one point, because things just snapped, and I met Jim, and anyway, long story short, a couple movie gigs gave me drive again, and the Marvel kind of sealed my fate there and gave me the motivation to stay clean."

I don't know how to react. My head's spinning with all of this new information. But it hurts to hear. It hurts to know what he went through, how people treated him. And I get why he doesn't talk about it. So I finally move, eyes wide, as I tackle him with a hug, frantically feeling his back as I bury my face in his shoulder.

"I'm fine, babe," he promises, but I don't care. "That was years ago. I was a doped up kid."

"Still..." I say, voice shaky. "I didn't know, I-"

"Well, that's why I'm telling you this," he continues. "You asked me why you. When I met you, it was because you were respectful, but you didn't treat me like everyone else. It was refreshing. But once I figured things out, once I knew what you were going through with Charlie and with the pills...

"I don't deserve to be who I am today, Rach. But somehow I'm here living on a second chance. I wanted to help you. And then I found out about what he really did to you, and...that's when I realized maybe it wasn't just helping you fix your problems that drew me to you. It's helping each other fix our problems, because you just...you understand, and if we understand each other, we can get through any other shit that's thrown our way.

"But then that fight happened and I just kept thinking, if that wasn't it, then why am I here? So I called, and...well, here we are. So when you ask why you...aside from being this amazing, beautiful, talent that makes me laugh and remember the little things in life, you make me stronger, and I want to make you stronger, too.

"I never meant to hurt you, Rachel. But it happened, and you're giving me that second chance here, too. And I'm running out of second chances. I'm not giving up on this because I know somewhere in my heart that you are who I'm supposed to be with, so as long as you still love me, I'll figure out a way to make you believe this and trust me again."

"I trust you," I whisper almost instantly when he finally wraps up, letting it out on a breath as I hug him tighter. 

"Rach-"

"I do," I insist, and after a second, his arms wrap around me and hugs back.

I don't know how long we sit there like that, but we do, until eventually he's kissing my cheek and pushing back to gently stroke my cheek.

"Let me drive you to your mom's," he offers kindly, and I nod. "But...one condition," he adds before we get up. "Once we walk off this plane, we start being a couple again."

And I agree. I don't know what else to do. And maybe I'm not 100% healed. Maybe I don't completely trust him yet...but it's coming back, and this was a huge step to making things right again.

He had called in his car, I guess...the one he was driving around here for the wedding and left for the next time he was in town. It's black, a sleek Audi, similar to that silver one I love in California.

The ride is quiet, with a few meows from Aero, and I drop him off at my mom's alone, promising Robert it will be a quick stop.

"Welcome home," she greets me when I meet her at the door and hand her Aero's bag of stuff before unzipping him and letting him roam the house. "Just a week?"

"Yeah," I confirm. "Are you sure you're not coming to the party? It is your mother after all."

"I told her I have to work. Got a couple places up for show," she declines.

They've never had a strong relationship, but it's fine. I didn't as a child, but I guess some things change as an adult. But after the last year and everything that's happened, I haven't seen them yet, and tomorrow is bound to be interesting... 

"Do you want something to eat? Maybe hang out and tell me about last night?" she asks next, setting up Aero's food and water dish and pouring some litter in a box, but I shake my head, hands in my back pockets. 

"No, I should actually get going soon," I answer quietly.

"It's only eight," she laughs and I shrug. 

"We're tired," I admit. "Kinda just want to go back to the house and get some sleep..."

But now she's got a smirk on her face and she's lifting an eyebrow, staring at me with judgement. "We're?"

Oh, right. I didn't really tell her...just kinda figured she saw photos if they were going around.

"I, uh...Robert's in the car, and..."

"And you're back together," she observes. "How'd that one happen?"

"Devin," I sigh. "Some ridiculous scheme that ended up exactly how she intended it to..."

"And he didn't even want to come inside?" she teases. "I'm hurt."

"It's been a long day and a half..."

"I told you it would work itself out," she counters and I groan.

"I know, I know..." And then I say goodbye to Aero, heading toward the door. "We can go to dinner Thursday night," I offer. "Night before the convention kicks off. I'll have him tag along and tell you all about the awards then..."

She agrees, and then we're on our way to my place, but half way there my stomach grumbles and he grins, glancing over at me.

"Someone's hungry."

"I haven't eaten all day," I remind him. "Neither have you."

"What's good around here?"

I watch him as he drives, the street lights flashing over his face as we pass each one, dimly lighting that side profile of his I love so much. "Uh...well, you probably don't want to dine in, so...we can get take out. Or there's a Sonic up the street."

"Sonic?" he questions, and I remember it must be a regional thing. 

"Yeah, it's like...drive in style, I guess. You order outside, they bring your food to you...but none of it's on your diet..."

"Screw the diet," he decides. "One night won't kill me."

"But the party tomorrow-" I protest, and he laughs.

"Two nights won't kill me, either."

So he takes my hand in his in my lap and follows my directions until we arrive at the lit up restaurant. He takes a look at the menu and I give him my order, and he puts it in to the person on the other end of the voice receiver, and then we wait.

"Are you sure you don't want to trade seats?" I ask, twisting in my seat. 

"If they recognize me, they recognize me," he shrugs.

"Yeah, but there's tons of other people here," I point out.

"I'll handle it," he assures me with a laugh. 

And then the food arrives and there's a knock on his window and he immediately flashes his usual Downey charm at the guy who is staring wide eyed at him before handing over the food.

"Hi," Robert sings with a grin, accepting it and passing it to me, and then he fishes out a five hundred from his wallet and passes it over. "This cover it?"

"It was only twenty-one seventy-three, sir," he gulps. "I don't know if we have change for this, I-"

"Keep it," he offers and I shake my head in amusement, happy he's being so kind.

"Are you sure?!" the kid nearly yelps and Robert nods.

"Yup. Just uh...keep this between us till we leave, k?"

"Yeah..yeah," he agrees quickly. "But can I uh...can I maybe take a photo with both of you?"

"Yes," Robert agrees, giving him another smile and it reminds me so much of Tony right now. "But be discreet. Got it? None of that flashy stuff, no weird poses..."

"Robert," I groan and he laughs his high pitched, genuine laugh for the first time in ages and it's music to my ears. 

"I'm kidding. Yes, take a photo." Then he turns to me. "Come on, get up here."

So I lean over the seat as the kid takes his phone out and leans down to take a selfie, and then he wishes us a good day and thanks us and he's gone.

"You scare them, you know," I hum as I hand him his burger and he sticks his tongue out at me. 

"I just gave him a $480 tip, I don't think he's scared."

"Intimidated."

"Nope, that's you," he plays, remembering our conversation from earlier.

Dinner goes down smoothly, and the photo doesn't appear online until we make it back to my house. I can only imagine what that kid went through having to stay quiet until he saw Robert's expensive ass car leave, but it's cute to see it when I unlock the door and grab a glass of water from the kitchen.

@DannTh3Mann: I JUST SERVED @RobertDowneyJr and @Rachel_Thomas AND THEY LEFT ME THIS, is this even real life?!

Snickering, I like the photos he's posted and then go to comment.

@Rachel_Thomas thanks for the food, we loved meeting you!

"Well, there's no doubt we're back together now," I announce as Robert locks my front door, and then set my phone aside. "Nice kid, though. He says thank you...I think."

"Interesting place," he comments. "I liked it."

"It's different," I agree, stretching and then heading toward my room. "And now time to sleep!" I celebrate dramatically, but when I round the corner I stop in my tracks, my heart beat skipping.

I'm faced with the dim light of candles throughout the room, the scent of vanilla - my favorite scent, which I told him about during one of our few weeks away from each other - surrounding me the second I walk into the bedroom. There's fairy lights over the headboard of the bed, and to top it all off, rose petals on the bed, just like you'd see in the movies, and I'm speechless.

"What..." I whisper, turning around when his footsteps alert me he's joined me, and my shocked face makes him smile, his eyes gentle but dark.

"Had the idea on the plane, but Devin wanted to help, so she set everything up while we were at your moms... Just something nice, you know? Some quality time for us..."

I really want to know just how the hell my house hasn't burned down from this, to be honest, but I know he has an answer for everything, so I don't ask.

"And I know what you're thinking," he continues. "You probably don't wanna have sex, and that's fine... I was hoping you'd just let me give you a nice massage, maybe let me kiss you, since we haven't since..."

I exhale slowly, my heart full right now. All of this...completely unexpected and spectacular...

So I let my smile show and step up to him, my hands sliding up his cheeks to steady his face. He's got that slight stubble coming back in, despite shaving earlier, and the scent of his aftershave from earlier is still strong on his jaw, just as it was on the plane, and right now... Right now I want nothing more than to connect with him, to start fixing us together.

"You can kiss me," I whisper, but before he does, I pull out of his reach and press my finger to his lips. "But only if you promise not to stop until morning," I add quietly.


	64. Chapter 64

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sooo it was a one day bug, I guess. Aside from just feeling cold today, temperature wise, I felt much better. So here's something...

It's almost eerie, waking up to burnt out candles and a mess of crumpled up flower petals on the wooden floor. There's a chill to the room, being October without the heat turned up yet, and I shiver slightly when I shift under the sheets. But there's no warmth to my side, only the bed unmade where Robert must've slipped out. I don't want to get up yet, but my phone's in the other room, and I should probably get something to eat...

So I swing my feet over the side of the bed and grab a hoodie and a new pair of underwear from my dresser and wander out to the kitchen, nearly running into Robert as he pulls a hot pan from my stove and turns to the island to plate whatever it is he's making.

"No, go back to bed!" he whines when he sees me and I blink, still sleepy and confused.

"What? Why?"

"I was bringing you breakfast in bed..." he sighs. "So much for the bed part..."

He looks dejected so I go for my phone at the end of the counter and hold it up, retreating back to my room instead of sitting and waiting for him to finish.

"I'm going, I'm going!" I yell over my shoulder. "By the way, you're cleaning up that mess! I finally had everything cleaned and put away!"

"You haven't even lived here for the past month," he counters, slipping into the room behind me as I sit back down on my side of the bed. 

"Mmmm..." I grumble, not wanting to try arguing, and then he places a plate in my lap and shoves a piece of bacon in my mouth. "Where the hell did we get bacon?!" I ask with a stuffed face as I playfully glare at him.

He lays awkwardly across the bed at an angel and leans on his arms as he grins up at me. The slope of his nose and his messy hair with rectangular black glasses over his eyes do him justice, even if he's just in sweats, and I can't help but smile back after I down the piece of food he forced on me.

"I went to the store. You know how hard it is to find an organic store around here?!" 

"That's because it's not LA," I tease. "You know I never ate organic before you."

"And now you're much healthier," he shoots back. "Which means you're gonna live a long time."

"From eating organic foods for a couple months?" I laugh. "Uh huh. Cool, so I just gained more time putting up with your crazy ideas."

"All right, next time I won't buy you bacon!" he snaps and steals my other piece for himself.

"Didn't you eat?"

"Yeah, but before I made yours and now I'm starving again."

"You're gonna get fat," I say with a straight face and move on to the omelet he's made me. 

"You're mean," he pouts, and I shoot him a soft smirk to settle him.

"Thank you," I say gently, and he smiles back again and tucks one arm behind his head like a little kid as he watches me eat. "And thank you for last night..." I add with a blush.

He flashes his teeth at me, apparently thinking about it as well.

Sex...well, sex didn't happen. Sort of. He made me wait for that kiss, hovering inches from my lips in a tease until he felt my breath falter, and then we spent a good portion of the night making out. Just touching, feeling him. Laughing when we bump teeth and groaning when he pulls at my lip. Remembering all the things he likes, all the soft spots he has..and vice versa. But he insisted on that massage, which had a happy ending for me, but when wanting to return the favor, he wouldn't let me. He basically left me in a form of jelly, laying there in the most relaxed, hazy state I've been in in a while. His hands are gold, let me tell you, and I feel loose and renewed after that.

"So..." I mumble through a bite of egg as I start going through my phone...genuine for the first time in two months. "What'd I miss on the tabloids?"

"Hmm...some speculation. I believe one was titled 'Downey Deserted Again?'," he sighs. "Oh, and they really ate up the lack of online presence from both of us."

"How'd they tear apart my encounter with those cameras?" I mumble, scrolling through headlines.

"Uh..." he starts, apparently trying to remember. "I think they played it up to something with me. Nothing's really slipped about him, just that one interview from the tour..."

"Well, look at this one," I laugh, landing on an article I'm tagged in on Twitter: 'RaRo Back Together? Iron Man spotted with his Pepper in Pittsburgh last night.' "That's a lot jammed into one headline.

"It's an online article, what do you expect?" he shrugs.

"Apparently my followers were nagging me about us," I add, digging deeper into my mentions. "So many people asking if we were still together. Lots of broken hearts and crying faces," I snort in amusement.

"Yeah, me too. Took a break from my phone cause of it," he admits. "Jim was keeping up with everything."

"Shall we end our break?" I ask with another smirk, glancing at him. "Officially?"

He simply watches as I snap a photo of the plate in front of me, now half eaten, and post it to my Instagram account..the first photo since before September. 

@Rachel_Thomas Breakfast in bed. <3 #spoiled #boyfriend #IWasGoingToMakeYouAnOmeletAndTellYou 

To which he laughs his silly giggle, rolling onto his back and laying his hands across his stomach. "That's the longest hashtag to ever hit the internet."

"I'm not just gonna tell them, I'm gonna make them guess!" I grin back.

We finish breakfast and after another thank you, I hit the shower while he does the dishes and sweeps up the mess from the night before, and by the time we're ready to hit the road, it's just after noon, and it's a two hour drive to my grandmother's. There's bound to be plenty of people there, so I spend the first half of the trip telling him that and making him reassure me that he's fine with it. We'll only be there two days; we're coming back to the city Thursday afternoon for dinner with my mom that night. But there's a lot to know about my family. How my grandmother is a health nut, just like him. How she's probably just as fit as us, even if she's nearing 85. How my mom is actually adopted, so I'm not related to any of these people by blood. I tell him about my two uncles, Kevin and James, and how they both live just north of New York, Kevin single and James sharing two kids with his wife, Courtney. And I also mention how condescending they can be...without intending to, maybe, but it happens, and it's part of the reason why we're not that close. It's a long discussion catching me up, and he has questions, of course, and that leads into him telling me more about his mother and where his parents met, and about Allyson and her family...

His hand takes mine the entire time we're driving (aside from gear shifts), and I have no idea how that's comfortable for him for two hours, but whatever. We stop for gas once, needing to finally fuel up form last time, and I get it for him so he doesn't get spotted on the highway. At that point, he decides it's warm enough to flip the top down, still being nearly 75 as a high, and we go the second half of the trip with the wind in our hair. I take over the radio, playing a compilation of the Eagles' hits, and he questions me, but I insist it's the best road trip music. That and Twizzlers are the best road trip snack. Apparently I'm the crazy one.

I do reply to a couple of comments on that Instagram post, and a few tweets that are sent my way. It's amusing to me, but I wouldn't appreciate this teasing if I were in their shoes...hell, I didn't when I used to see things he posted, so I cave and answer questions.

@Black0Lotus4 boyfriend?? hmmm

@RDjunior_2010 please please please give me good news! #Towney #RaRo

I just like the comments for a tease and then turn to Twitter.

@Starrks__ SOMEONE JUST TELL ME, ARE @RobertDowneyJr AND @Rachel_Thomas TOGETHER ?! FESS UP YOU TWO!

I burst out laughing at this one and he just cocks an eyebrow, eyes on the road. I gotta quote it and answer and finally answer it all.

@Rachel_Thomas Busted! 

And that sets my notifications off, but I don't want to look right now, so I put my phone back in my bag and just enjoy his company while we sing to the radio until we reach my grandparent's house. This is the first time we've had together that hasn't been serious or an attempt at romance or actively fixing things...it's just shared laughter and good spirits.

Their house is part of a plan, so the roads are homey and still, but when we pull into their driveway, the place is packed with cars from family and neighbors, and I can already imagine the full house they must have. Of course, we're a little late, but whatever, I tried...the party started at two and it's...going on three.

"You sure you're cool with this?" I ask patiently from the passenger side seat. "You can just drop me off and head back to a hotel if you want."

He smirks behind his sunglasses as he parks the Audi in the driveway. "Are you embarrassed of me?"

I blush. "What? No! They're just...pretty judgmental..."

"I can handle it."

"There's kids, too," I mention as I reach into the back seat and gather our things.

"Rach, I'm not allergic." He unbuckles the seat belt and closes the roof of the car; it's PA, you never know when it'll rain. "You know I kinda do public appearances for a living, right?"

I roll my eyes and open the car door. "You're not working today, though."

"No, but I'm still gonna make a good impression."

I watch with doubt as he exits the car and walks around, grabbing our bags from me and then pecks me on the lips with a quick kiss before smiling down at me. His hair fluffs up in the wind; it's not properly spiked, but he still looks good...he always does.

"Relax, okay?"

I sigh and lead him up to the door. "I'm trying. But don't say I didn't warn you..."

"Babe, I got this. I'm Iron Man, remember?" He grins cheekily when I raise an eyebrow at him.

Then, I brace myself and push through the doorway. It's always open on days like these; I remember that well from the times I've stayed there when I was younger. It's weird, now, though...I haven't seen anyone outside of immediate family in Pittsburgh since my career launched...since our announcement on Fallon, and that was months ago.

"Hey!" I call, and am immediately met with my baby cousins running past and music softly floating from speakers in the back yard.

"You're sure this is a grown up party?" he asks with humor, noting the mess of toys on the carpeted floor.

I ask him to set the bags down at the door until we locate our room. "It's easier to let them play in here. I'm sure they're outside grilling and bullshitting in the yard."

He looks amused but doesn't comment. We wander through the kitchen, where someone I don't know is getting their kid a glass of chocolate milk from my grandmother's fridge, and she looks up, smiling to mask her shock when she notices Robert. I sigh, grabbing his hand to make a point, and he doesn't miss it. His lips are tugged up to one side as he flashes back a smirk at the lady...until I pull him and step outside onto the deck, guiding him with me.

Immediately, more eyes turn to us. A lot are neighbors I vaguely remember. I finally recognize some of my uncles with my grandparents in the yard under the tent and take a breath before wandering down the steps and into the grass, Robert close behind.

"Rachel!" I hear once we approach; my grandmother's spotted me. "You're here!"

"Hey," I mumble shyly, taking her in for a hug.

Next are my two uncles and the one's wife, who I also hug, respectively.

"What's up?" Kevin asks.

"That's a loaded question..." I answer with warning. "I'll catch you up later."

He nods in agreement and sips his beer from the bottle, and then it's their turn to harass Robert. Now, when I say harass, I mean subtly. It's never bold, but it nags at you until it's overwhelming. I'm sure he's used to it, but I still don't like it.

"You must be Mr Downey," my grandmother observes, extending a hand.

"That would be me." He takes it, then lightly hugs her for good taste. "It's very nice to meet you. Thank you for having me."

"It's no problem at all," she almost sings. "We're just glad you could squeeze us into your busy schedule so we could finally meet you.

Shot number one.

"I gotta say, I wasn't expecting to be in the presence of a Hollywood legend," James says next.

Robert shakes each of their hands, then waves hello to my aunt who's busy with their little girl who just ran up asking for some water. Normally, he'd make a snide remark or say something egocentric, but not today, not while he's so set on fixing things still, and I'm thankful.

"Please...I'm just a normal guy."

"Yeah...well, you guys want a beer or something?" James asks, trying to be himself, I guess.

But it's actually shot number two... They want to know if he's changed his ways at all since they knew his movies, and now I'm over protective, not wanting anything about the last few days or the reason behind the break up or anything to slip.

"Actually," I interrupt, my hand on Robert's shoulder for support. "He doesn't drink."

He smiles at me, but his look tells me he's got this. "I'll just stick to water for now."

"There's bottles in the fridge," my grandmother says with a smile.

I sigh in relief that nothing else was said, then remember our bags. "I'll take you," I tell him, then add, "by the way, sleeping arrangements...downstairs, upstairs?"

"You can take the room downstairs. Figure you might want some alone time," she answers.

I feel my face redden as my uncle lifts an eyebrow suggestively, internally groaning. Then, I promise to be right back and wander back into the house to put our things in the room.

"Sorry about that..." I mumble as I lead him down the center stairs and to the finished basement. 

"About what?" he laughs from behind me.

Thankfully, the basement is deserted.

"The alcohol thing..." I mumble, turning on the light of the downstairs bedroom and sitting on the edge of the bed.

He sighs and approaches me, settled between my legs as he cups my face with his hands and has me look up at him. "You worry too much."

I can't help but frown. "Robert, they did it on purpose. They know your history, and..."

"And so does the rest of the world," he interrupts. "Which judges me every day. I'm used to it. I deserve it, especially after-"

I press my eyebrows together when I interrupt. "You don't deserve anything of the sort," I argue. "You beat it. You changed. You've had one slip up, whatever, you've come so far since you stopped using..."

He smiles to comfort me and I sigh, relaxing a little. "It's not a big deal, Rach," he promises.

I remove his glasses, then place my hand on his, still over my cheek, and flash my eyes up at him sadly. He smirks again and places a soft kiss on my lips, then releases me.

"Come on, we have a party to be at...we can break in the bed later," he jokes.

I roll my eyes but allow him to pull me up and then we're headed back upstairs, toward the kitchen to get us both some water. When we make it there, I hand him one, then lean against the counter, finally breathing for a minute.

"So you're sure you can work from here?" I ask after a moment.

"I have it under control," he promises. "Can put most of it off till the weekend, and I got Jim sending me some shit to take care of while you're at the con. Mostly pre signing posters and stuff."

"Okay, cause-"

I'm cut off by two young boys, maybe six or seven, wandering up with wide eyes. I immediately chuckle under my breath as Robert raises an eyebrow, pulling off his best Tony impromptu.

"Are you...are you Iron Man?" the one asks quietly.

Robert looks at me, then to them when I bite my lip and wait for him to answer. He crouches down to their level and looks the kid who spoke in the eye, nodding.

"I am," he confirms.

The other boy gets excited after this. "Told you mom said he'd be here!" he shouts; they're probably brothers...though I've never seen them before.

"Could you...sign my action figure?" the first boy asks again. "It's in the other room..."

Robert looks him over for a second, dramatically pretending to think. "Hmm...what's in it for me?"

I nudge him slightly, silently reminding him they know he isn't actually Tony Stark so he doesn't need to have the attitude and he grins up at me.

"Sure, kid. Wanna show me it?"

The boy nods, rushing from the room. Robert stands, then kisses me lightly on the forehead.

"Why don't you go visit. I'll be fine in here for a little while."

"You want to play with kids?" I ask and he shrugs.

"I'll come find you when I'm done."

I nod, giving him another quick kiss, then watch as he pads off with the other boy. The kid takes Robert's hand in his and drags him along, but he's perfectly eager going. He's really something else with them...I already knew he was, but seeing it in such an intimate setting... It's too bad I have no idea about my future. Even if we fix things...is that even in our future? A mini version of Robert? Of me? Of us... Do I even have that choice? Maybe I should visit the doctor again, seeing as everyone thinks I'm perfectly fine all of a sudden...ever since we got together in the first place, way back in April...

I sigh, removing myself from my crazy thoughts and wander back outside, alone, to the family I left under the tent. This is definitely going to be an interesting few days, that's for sure.


	65. Chapter 65

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, as you guys requested. :)

"I think you lost someone," James teases as I grab a beer from the cooler and sit with them outside in the shade, glad it's warm today.

I fake a laugh, cracking the bottle open and sipping at it. "He's playing Iron Man with a couple of the kids inside," I inform them. "He can't quite avoid being Tony Stark, I guess."

"I didn't know you two were still dating," my grandmother comments, and I sigh.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Just a busy schedule, some time apart..."

"Is that what they call it?" Courtney teases, but with good humor.

I lean on my elbow and shoot her a look, but friendly. "We had a fight, shit happens..." I mumble.

"Really?" Kevin asks, and I groan internally; here comes the judgement. "A fight about what? Whether or not he needs to sign your permission slip to leave the country with him?"

I scowl, annoyed. I know he's trying to joke, but it isn't funny to me. Robert already gets enough shit about our age difference, and I don't need more, either.

"We haven't even left the US."

"He is a lot older than you, Rachel," my grandmother judges. "And your mother is okay with that?"

"Is my mother dating him?" I snap back.

"Give her a break, guys," Courtney laughs, tossing her arm around my shoulders. "She clearly loves him, so we should, too."

I look up in thanks; she's always been kind, even before she was officially part of the family. We are probably the closest besides Kevin and I, but it's still tough. They all come from these intellectual families, and then there's me...the one who just doesn't eat healthy or care about how they sit or how they speak. The closest I come to them is practicing yoga, which is rare, especially these days. Funny, how you'd guess Robert would fit in.

"Plus, I don't mind having some eye candy at these things..." she tosses in as a follow up and I fake gasp which makes her laugh.

"How's his house?" Kevin asks, sitting back and crossing his leg across his knee. "Gotta be huge."

"Which one?" I ask, still a little frustrated. Then, I take a breath and answer sincerely. "They all are, including the one he bought us."

"He bought you a house?!" my grandmother asks and I swear she may have a heart attack right here.

"Yeah, Devin and I...trust me, I said no, but he wasn't accepting that..."

"So where's the ring?" James questions, and I roll my eyes.

"We've only been dating six..." I hesitate, not realizing it's been half a year already. "Six months..."

That means it's been about a year since we met...at least in a few weeks. Shit, time really does fly...

"What about your pets?" my grandmother asks next.

"Well, my mom's kind of adopted the dog for herself and Bobby loves Aero..."

"Bobby?" Courtney snickers. "How adorable."

I feel a blush creep in and try to ignore it, focused on answering their questions for the next twenty minutes or so. They ask about him some more, but eventually ask about my singing, and I go into telling them the fun parts, like the recording sessions, the award show, and the interviews, like Fallon. It's all so surreal, being able to talk about this stuff now so easily, but part of me is always weirded out when I feels so...normal.

Before dinner, my grandmother decides she wants a photo of just the family, so she asks one of her friends to take it for her. She lines Kevin and Courtney up while James goes to grab the two girls, then turns to me and surprises the hell out of me.

"Where's Robert?"

"Uh," I stammer, confused. "Inside still, I guess."

"Well how's he going to to be in the photo if he's in there?"

She...she wants him in the family photo? But...

"I'll uh...hold on..." I manage, and then I take for the house, stunned that she wants him in the photo.

These things usually make the family Christmas cards, the ones she orders online and sends out. This is going to cement things, and does Robert even want that? God, what if this sets things off again. 

Shit, now I'm starting to panic, so by the time I find him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and laughing as he talks to a woman I don't know, working his Downey charm that he uses so often. I'm not jealous, I swear. Okay, maybe a little...but I'm used to it. That's just Robert. A people person. This version of Robert's been missing, and I'm glad it's back...so I push the jealousy aside and interrupt.

"Hey," I sing with a light heart, running my hand up his arm and to his shoulder, to which he smiles back a pressed lip smile, adorably showing off his laugh lines.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he tells me, sincere. "I was talking to Diane here and lost track of time. You know she owns a yoga studio in town?"

"I'm sure you'll utilize that the next time we're here," I say with a smile at her. "They just wanted to take a family photo and I was asked to corral you," I admit.

He cocks an eyebrow and excuses himself from his conversation with an arm wrapped around my shoulder, and the he walks with me outside, smirking the whole way despite people still murmuring about him.

"Family photo, huh?"

"I guess you're family now..." I try. "If you want to be..."

"So does that mean I take your last name?" he tries to joke, gesturing at me with his free hand, to which I push back in question...but happy question. "Cause Robert Thomas...I mean, you have a Rob Thomas. That's weird. Is your grandmother's name Thomas?"

"Robert," I sigh, not wanting to get into the jealousy thing again.

But he keeps up the playful banter. "Downey sounds better. I think I'll keep it."

"You do that..." I mumble, and he leans in to kiss my cheek.

"And then I wouldn't be a junior, either."

"You're too small to be anything but," I tease, and he laughs, squeezing me into his side as we make it to the yard. "I guess you'll have to stay a Downey and I'll stay a Thomas. Think of yourself as an honorary family member."

"You don't have to stay a Thomas," he follows up with and I'm pretty sure this man is trying to kill me.

The instant I sought him out in the kitchen, he was comforting. He was my escape from the stress my family was putting on me moments before. He was that warm space I was happy to interrupt. And now he's still that feeling of calm washing over me, just from the way he holds me as we walk. And now he hits me with this? Asking me to...take his name? What is he even doing? He's just messing with me...right? Now my mind's going to be going crazy, between this and the kids earlier...

"What?" I finally ask on a caught breath and he chuckles.

"I'm just saying, you could change your name to whatever you want. They have courts for that kind of stuff," he finishes, and the glint in his eye proves he's aiming to get a rise from me; he knows what he's doing and he's doing it on purpose.

So I lean into him without answering and grab his hand that's draped over my shoulder with my own, feeling content. Maybe someday. When we work toward being closer and things are like this all the time.

Until we get to the photo and my nerves start up again and that's fine...but he's comforting me here, leaning in from the side with his arm now around my waist, and I think this is the first photo I've genuinely smiled in for my family since...since before Charlie.

Dinner is next, and it's informal, so Robert visits with family with me and takes a few photos with people who my grandmother introduces us to from around the neighborhood. It goes better than expected, until I realize my uncle tagged Robert and I in a photo on Instagram, with the caption "family photo" and now the whole fandom is going nuts, including his friends who apparently had no idea his niece was the one dating RDJ. I turn off my phone for the time being and help clean up afterwards, and then the guests start leaving and James puts the kids to bed, and before I know it, I'm joining the girls on the back deck with desert in hand, enjoying what will probably be one of the last nice nights of the season. The boys have disappeared somewhere after Robert was asked about his car, and I saw him pull a couple cigars from his bag and join them in the driveway.

"So where are you off to next?" my grandmother asks.

We're seated with wine...and more importantly, ice cream! I have a bowl of vanilla, just like I used to have as a kid. It isn't my favorite, but it's nostalgic.

"Pittsburgh for the weekend, then back to Los Angeles, I think," I answer as I watch the boys. "He's got a few scenes to finish filming for something and but I don't think he has much planned after that until the press tour in the spring, thankfully."

"You could come back for the holidays," my grandmother offers.

"We'd love to have you," my aunt agrees, feet up on the small couch against the brick wall. "We don't get to see you much anymore..."

I frown, placing the spoon in the bowl. "I know...I'll see what I can do. We may take a trip somewhere in there..."

My aunt smirks. "A trip, huh? Like a vacation?"

"Something like that.." I blush.

"You lucky bitch," she curses, completely catching me off guard. "Where's he taking you?"

"I don't know yet," I grin before taking a bite of ice cream. "We discussed Jamaica..."

"That man and the beach?!" she says and I sear if hearts could pour out of her eyes, they would. "I envy you."

"I'm kind of excited...just to have some time alone, I mean. It's been tough, with his filming and my recording, and then the last few months..." I ramble off. "We have some days, yeah, but then there's these long gaps and..."

"You two are okay though?" my aunt asks and I nod.

"Yeah...yeah, I think we will be," I decide, and I mean it.

"As long as you're happy," my grandmother tells me as the boys start heading toward us.

I smile. "I am. Very."

And it isn't a lie. Today's reminded me of why I fell in love with him...outside of the fan thing, I mean. He's been happy. He's made me laugh, made everyone else laugh, made me feel safe... And he isn't even trying, at least not like he's been with that set up at my house, for example. He's just been himself and squeezed into the family and I love that. No Hollywood nonsense, just the man who saved me from myself before, back to save me again.

"All famous actor stuff aside...I think he's great," my aunt confides. "And the kids love him."

I can't help but laugh, taking a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth and sucking on the spoon. The girls really attached themselves to him during dinner, not even knowing who he is.

Then before I can comment, the guys are back to joining us, my two uncles taking the empty seats. I pat the chair I'm in as I stand, letting Robert sit, then climb back into his lap, legs hanging off the side of the chair. I can feel their eyes watch me as I sit a little too cuddly with him...I'm never like this. But I don't care. Surprisingly...everything I expected hadn't happened, and it seems like he fits in just fine. Like I said, they aren't treating him like the bad guy, or the celebrity...he's just my boyfriend tonight, and it's extremely comfortable.

"Save any of that for me?" Downey teases as James grabs for his glass of scotch and takes a sip.

"Oh, never steal food from her," he jokes.

Robert chuckles, his eyes sparkling as he grins, watching me furrow my brow as I protect my bowl.

"I've learned that the hard way," he smirks.

I scowl at him, then put the spoon back and drop the bowl in his hands. "I always share my food with you!" I argue playfully.

He takes the last bite, then sets the bowl on the side table and wraps his arms around me for warmth; it's getting a little chilly now that the sun's dipping down, I will admit. I lean my head against his shoulder, enjoying the sound of the crickets as I watch the stars start to shine from over the hill in the distance. It's so relaxed and peaceful.

"So Rachel was just telling us about the movie you're filming," my grandmother pipes up, trying to spark conversation.

He nods. "Just a small project for my buddy who was in the Iron Man movies with me," he confirms. "Then a nice break."

"I can't imagine doing anything like that," Kevin states, taking another sip of his drink. "God, that's gotta be stressful, isn't it? Moving around so much..."

"The jet lag sucks," he agrees. "But the rest is just getting used to a weird schedule. Lots of stuff filmed late at night or really early in the morning."

I close my eyes, listening to them chat about the movie, tuning it out to the soft beat of his heart as he holds me steady. I can tell I'm fading, despite the sugar in the ice cream, but try to fight it. Still, after what only seems like several moments, he's shaking me softly, grinning down at me when I blink my eyes open.

"Sorry," I mumble, pushing up and stretching in his lap.

"Everyone's headed in," he tells me kindly, rubbing up and down my arm. "Ready for bed?"

I smile, heavy with sleep, and nod before placing a small kiss on his smoke tinted lips.

"Get a room," James jokes, alerting me that the others are still around.

"We have one!" I snap back.

I blush and stand, pulling Robert up with me. His hand moves from mine to the small of my back as he follows behind and we wander inside.

I sleepily say goodnight to everyone after I grab some water to take down with us, wrapping my arm around his waist at the top of the stairs and leaning into his torso. He helps guide me down the stairs and to the room, and after I brush my teeth, I quickly change into one of his t shirts and hop into bed, awaiting his body heat to settle me into sleep. It's funny, really, how addicted I've become to his touch. It's been hard to fall asleep without him around, even if the nightmares haven't been as bad. But still, he is here tonight, and that's all that matters.

While I pass the time, I decide to see what comments are coming in for that photo that was posted, and well...it's probably a bad decision.

Twitter's the most active, resharing the photo with their own comments, so I decide to like a few...including:

@DuckDuckJr: his arm's around her and everything's perfect again, I'm so happy!!

@dowwneyjr: they tagged it #FamilyPhoto guys. FAMILY. I give it six months before we see a ring.

Oh. That escalated quickly. But I laugh at it anyway.

It's the next one that hurts.

@CharrBar0: Sorry but you guys know he was like this with SJP too right? Look how far that went and that lasted years.

Attached is a photo of him and a cat and they're laughing as it crawls on his shoulder and I know the photo well. He's young here. Happy, from the looks of it. It's a candid, so it isn't posed. And it just kinda gets me going...is this person right? All day he's been so cute and cuddly and suggestive about a future, but what if that's what he told her too?

No, I'm being dramatic, stop. 

When he finally finishes getting ready for bed and lifts the covers and slips in, he fluffs the pillows behind his head and settles down.

"Okay," he sighs, closing his eyes momentarily. "I think we're gonna take this bed home with us."

I huff in amusement. "It's not that comfortable."

He smiles sleepily. "You're right...it must just be you." But then he glances at the screen. "What'cha lookin at?" he asks, as though he isn't aware.

"Just on Twitter. Got tagged in this."

He doesn't buy it and rolls over onto his side and shoots me puppy dog eyes up as he lays his chin on my shoulder. "I definitely don't look like that anymore."

I smirk at that, glancing at him before looking back to the black and white photo. "We've had this conversation before."

"When?"

"Your office in New York. And I told you then that you haven't changed, too."

He buries his face in my shoulder with a sigh, but my mind's elsewhere.

"Do you remember that cat?" I ask after a moment, though that isn't what I really want to ask.

"Sort of," he answers, muffled, before lifting his head again. "I remember Sarah not wanting to touch it after it hissed at her."

"Oh," I comment, and that's it.

And he can tell something's up, so he lifts his gaze to focus on me and asks. "Are you jealous?"

"What?" I fake laugh. "What would I be jealous of?"

"Well, you seem to be staring daggers at my ex girlfriend while I'm not around," he teases. "So if I had to guess...of her?"

"I'm not jealous," I argue, but he hums in disagreement.

"Mhmm...and I'm not Tony Stark."

"Technically, you're not," I remind him, but soon sigh and give in. "I just wish I knew you then..."

"What, when I wasn't old and senile?" he tries to joke, but realizes my mood. "I'm better now."

"Maybe...but you have this huge history and like, looking at this photo, I just don't know this guy..."

So he takes my phone away from my and shuts it off, setting it on the night stand on the other side of his body before turning back. "That guy in the photo is right here, Rach. Same guy, more wrinkles."

But then I admit to my jealousy. "You just looked happy. With the cat, and...her..."

"Mmmm, there it is," he teases. "I was happy with her."

"Happier than with me..." I nearly whisper, and he pushes himself up off of me to look at me instead, head resting on his arm. "And even you guys didn't work out."

"I looked happy because I was stoned out of my mind," he informs me. "And she, like you, was not going to sit around while I chose drugs over love."

"So you loved her," I toss back and it actually just makes him laugh; apparently my jealousy is amusing to him, but I get it so I'm not angry. 

"I did," he agrees. "But it was different."

"How?" I grumble. "She was prettier, skinnier...probably better in bed."

Okay, now I'm being ridiculous and even I know that because my face heats up red and I close my eyes for a second in frustration. 

"Sorry, never mind..."

"I loved her, but not like I love you," he answers anyway. "I thought that was it, and it hurt when we split up, but it was nothing compared to how strongly I feel about you. The connection was just...different"

"Okay," I sigh. "It's okay, forget I mentioned it please..."

"Nope," he declines. "Because you know why you're different?"

I don't answer and just lift and eyebrow, so he decides to try his hardest to make me laugh and give in, giving me a kiss on my cheek with each comment following.

"Because you're patient," he tells me, then places a big, wet kiss on my cheek that makes me scrunch up into my shoulder with a smile from how ticklish I can get. "You're beautiful." Kiss. "You made me want to stay sober." Kiss. "You're forgiving." Kiss.

"Okay, okay!" I laugh, knowing he's buttering me up, but he doesn't stop.

"Should I go on? I can be less tame."

"No!" I squirm, but he doesn't care.

"You took the time to find out my kinks." Kiss. "Your kiss is like a fucking drug itself." Kiss. "You make me name sound great when you mo-"

"Bobby!" I blush, bright red as a tomato and he finally gives up and laughs, himself.

He leans up to kiss my nose and grins down at me. "I could go on and on all day if you don't believe me."

"Please don't," I giggle like a child, and that's when he rolls over onto his back. "I get it, I get it..."

"So, how about yoga in the morning?" he offers. "There's a nice view from the deck, let's take a half hour out there."

And I nod, but not before he leans over and delicately kisses my cheek one last time, this one softer and lighter.

"Get some sleep, weirdo..." he exhales. "I love you."

And then just as fast, he's reaching over to turn out the lamp on the bedside table. I shift, laying my head on his shoulder and letting my arm rest across his body, cuddling into his side. He chuckles immediately, but holds me all the same, his fingers already tracing lazy circles on my back through the shirt. ...Thank God he sleeps topless, because I can feel his muscles under his skin move as he circles his arm and it's soothing my ridiculous worries away.


	66. Chapter 66

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Anyway so I just learned a lot about Robert that I didn't really NEED to know and let's just say...a lot of the stuff I made up about him for the M rated part of this...isn't so far off. I'm just kind of sitting here staring at the wall. I know too much now. I don't really know how to function. Uh...enjoy this update.

"It's still dark out," I groan and rub sleep from my eyes before pulling my hair back into a tie.

"The sun'll be up any minute," he tells me, still sleepy himself, but positive. "Come on, help me roll this out."

I grumble incoherently and kick at the yoga mats we've stolen from my grandmother's basement in attempt to 'help'. Then I jam my hands into the pockets of his hoodie, which I took from him after he got dressed, and pout.

"You even said that this isn't a normal time," I remind him. "And you're already up and showered, what the hell..."

He doesn't comment right away; instead, he waits until he lifts my sclerotic body from under my arms and places me onto one of the mats like lifting me is no big deal. "When did I say that?"

"In Malibu," I answer, "on Sting's porch."

He steps onto his own mat with bare feet and I smirk as I yawn and watch; okay, his feet are cute, so what?

"You heard that?" he asks, amused as he does a few stretches, nodding at me to do the same so I sigh and pull my arms behind my head one at a time.

"You're not the quietest person," I inform him. "Heard the whole conversation."

"I didn't even know you recognized me with how fast you ran inside," he chuckles. "All right, start with something simple? Mountain?"

And it's nice to wake up this way, even if I still haven't mentally left bed. He's right...even though I can still see the chill of my breath in the air, the sun starts to rise and it's getting warmer by the minute. The view from their back porch is spectacular, filling the sky with oranges and yellows you don't usually get at sunset, and all I can hear is our breathing, calm and collected, and the sound of the last summer birds chirping as they wake up.

We switch poses a couple times, him helping me get into form. I do this occasionally, but not recently, and I know it's more regular for him. This is the first time we've actually done this together. 

At some point during a warrior pose, he wanders over to my mat and lifts my arms, keeping them level.

"Try to steady your heart rate," he instructs.

I watch with a blush as he lets his hands hover under them with a soft smile, helping me perfect the pose. "That's hard to do with you around..."

His lips twitch as he takes the pet to his ego, but continues to help. It's kind and intimate...and by the end of the short session when I open my eyes from sitting cross legged on the mat, I'm wide awake.

And so is he apparently.

He's staring over at me in his own position, his expression soft but almost longing as he watches me.

"What?" I ask finally, not sure what he's so concerned about. "Am I not doing something right?"

"No," he smirks. "No, you're perfect."

"Okay..." I draw out, letting go of my pose and stretching my back. "So why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're so fucking beautiful.." he tells me softly. "Almost hurts."

"Then stop looking at me," I tease, a bit of that usual cockiness coming back to my persona.

He sighs in acceptance and releases himself from his pose, standing tall and stretching. Then, he offers me a hand to stand as well, pulling me up.

"Can I ask you something?" he tries after a moment.

He seems serious, so I nod, not wanting to play with him right now; I'm too relaxed and focused.

"I know I've apologized already, but...you forgive me, right?" he nearly whispers, and I tilt my head with a frown.

"We said we're moving past that," I remind him gently, going for my mat instead, wanting to roll it up and take it inside. "After we got off the plane-"

"I know," he rushes to agree, mirroring me. "But I know I fucked up big time and I'm trying really hard here to make it up to you, so I just want to know if you can forgive me...instead of just trying to forget."

With that, he earns a sigh from me and I tug the mat over my shoulder with the carrying strap and cross my arms over my chest. "When you started talking to me, you knew I had a shitty past," I tell him. "Just like when I agreed to date you, I knew your history. I never signed up for some perfect, God sent actor."

"But you still left the second things got bumpy," he points out, and then quickly follows up with, "not that I'm accusing you or anything, I just mean you were still scared of that side of me..."

"I wasn't scared of your addiction," I disagree. "I was scared of Charlie being right. Of me being something okay to lose. Nothing special. That's why I left. And when you told me you called...I was too torn up to handle it at the time."

"Space, right," he mumbles.

"I think part of me knew even if I told you I was done, even if Devin never set us up, I would've missed you. I was trying to push that away and stop needing you, but it wouldn't have mattered. You're like...you're like your own version of a drug to me," I admit, embarrassed. "You calm me down just by being around, you make me laugh just being yourself...and that leads me to my point, you don't need to be hot shot Hollywood star Robert Downey Jr and do all these crazy, fancy, romantic things to fix us."

"I'm not-" he starts and I raise an eyebrow with a slight smile, amused.

"The rose petals on the bed? Bringing cigars to suck up to my family? Last night trying to tell me why I'm better than a girl you dated years ago?"

"Hey, you were the jealous one!"

I laugh instead, finally letting go of the situation for good. "I appreciate all of those things, but if you're only doing them to try and make things better...Bobby, I don't need that. You know what I need? You, being you. Being my Robert, being the chill guy who sings with me in the car and jokes about our names and pushes his cold ass feet on my legs at night."

"Me?!" he asks urgently, in disbelief. "Yours are just as bad, and you push them up on me in the middle of the night like you think I won't notice!"

I giggle like a child at that, honestly doing it in my sleep, but it reminds me of something so silly to be arguing about, yet every couple argues about it.

"See!" I grin. "This. This quirky shit that goes unspoken and makes me laugh...I fell in love with this version of you, not the carbon copy of Tony Stark."

"Tony wouldn't want your cold feet on him either..." he tries to joke and I roll my eyes in response.

"Don't make me take it back," I tease, reaching out to ruffle his hair with my hand. "But yes, I forgive you."

He squints in silent, dramatic agony, hating his hair being messed with so roughly, and then I'm padding bare foot inside, but not before he hurries to catch up.

"Well look who's becoming a morning person!" I hear from the kitchen when we make it inside, and Lord, is the warmth of the heat nice after the cool fall chill outside.

"Hardly," Robert answers my grandmother for me. "I had to physically lift her onto her mat."

"Oh," she comments, setting down the coffee cup she's filling at the counter. "You do yoga as well?"

"Yoga, meditation, martial arts..." he informs her with a smile. "I do it all."

"Quite a schedule they keep you on, there," she muses. "All to keep in shape, I assume?"

"That's a perk," he agrees, "but I do it more for myself. My distraction. My release, when I need it."

"From the drugs and alcohol," she quips, and that sets me off.

"Grandma!" I snap, but Robert grips my shoulder with his hand, smirking.

"It's okay. Yeah, for that. Nine years sober thanks to it, though."

She only smiles in return, so I shake my head and push past them, headed back downstairs for a shower.

"I'm getting dressed..." I grumble, then quickly hop down the stairs to our bathroom and bedroom, dropping the mat in the corner closet on the way.

I dig out a change of underwear and a decent bra from my bag and then hop in the shower, needing the time to take a breather. Remember? I told you they'd take stabs at him. Just didn't think this would be that direct.

Thankfully that's all I need for right now, and I quickly dab at my hair and change into my underwear before retreating back to the bedroom and digging out a dress I picked up in LA, and a pair of tall knee high black boots to match. I really hate the cold but I love dressing for fall and winter.

But as I tug on my shoes, the door opens and with it comes a low whistle.

"Where'd you get those fancy numbers?" Robert asks, and when I turn he's holding onto his coffee mug like he might drop it at any second.

I smirk at his dark eyes as they focus on my legs, remembering that night of the first show in LA. "I forgot you had a boot kink..."

To tease him I walk seductively up and lean up, giving him a soft kiss and tasting coffee on his lips, but before he can do anything else, I fall back on my heels again and steal the mug from his hands, taking a sip and walking away with it to go grab a light jacket.

"Don't tease, Miss Thomas," he groans, just as he used to when we first started dating. "Unless you want to make use of this bed...I can wait a little while before breakfast..."

"I'm already dressed," I point out.

"I'll handle that," he smirks as I pass and hand him his cup back, but I shake my head and sigh.

"I love you, I do...and I forgive you. But I just want to take this slow until we get back into the swing of things..." I admit. 

"So no sex?" he clarifies, and I force a small smile. 

"Not ever, just...not right away."

He pouts but accepts.

Thankfully, the rest of the day we lie low at the house. There's plans to go to see a local play this afternoon before dinner, like we usually do when I visit. It's not my thing, really, but they like to go, and it's such a small town that there's not much else to do here.

"I doubt Robert wants to watch mediocre actors on a farm house stage-" James starts when they bring it up, but he's quick to dismiss, despite being on his phone answering emails and messages from work.

"I'd be happy to go. Anything you all want to do."

With that, my family spends the rest of the morning visiting, playing a tile game in the kitchen which Robert observes. It's nice. Quiet. The kids are playing on the fenced in porch out back, and my uncles went to the liquor store to stock up on wine and cigars for the night, as they always do when the family gathers. There's been no more comments about Robert's addictions, thank God, and as far as I know, neither my mother or I told them about my short problem, so I'm trying to forget about this morning.

Until my phone rings, summoning a call from Devin, and I have him take over for me while I'm out of the room.

"Don't give up my lead or I'm cutting you out of that photo from yesterday!" I call over my shoulder and that earns a chuckle from everyone around the table. "Hey," I answer next, once I'm in a quiet room.

"How's the judgmental Brady Bunch?" Devin quickly answers, not hesitating on name calling.

"Already jumping down Robert's throat about his past," I sigh. "Not really up in his face about the whole Hollywood actor thing, though. Or my singing, to be honest."

"Yeah, well they will be now..." she sings and it makes my stomach start doing flips.

"Come on, Dev, you know I hate people hinting at things like that..." I groan. "What's up?"

"It's good news," she promises as I play with the small frog sculpture on the desk against the wall. "Are you sitting down?"

"Yes," I lie. "Just tell me."

"Your EP did so well, they want to sign you on for an actual record," she nearly squeals.

"They...what?" I breathe, heart stopping.

"Yeah! So I'm working on paperwork and getting everything set up, and you'd be working under the label's president, not the rep from before, you know, to work your image and stuff and get you into the big leagues..."

My heart's racing and I don't know how to respond and I've kind of spaced out. Devin agrees to send me the info, but since she already scoped out the record label, small or not, she's eager to get me this deal and set up for an early spring release. So, not in time for the award shows this year, but maybe the year after... Okay, I'm getting ahead of myself now. But this is it. This is what I've been dreaming about for ages. A record. An actual full album. Of my songs. Me, a headliner. Not an opening act. Until now my fame's kind of been based off of Robert, not gonna lie. And now it's my career. 

"Rachel?" I hear after a while and I finally pull from my caught breath. "Rach, hey."

"Yeah," I whisper, then clear my throat. "Yeah, I'm sorry, I'm here. I just.."

"I know. Take it in. Enjoy this. I'll see you on Friday."

And I silently head back to the kitchen. Not like when I found out about the AMA's. Not at all. This time I'm in shock and I'm calm and weirdly quiet and I set my phone down on the counter when I return, blankly staring at the cream colored marble tops as I process.

"Babe, I got you down to two tiles," Robert announces proudly from the seat, but looks over once he doesn't get a response. "Rach?"

I blink, swallowing nervously, before lifting my head to meet his eyes. My family's watching now, too, confused as hell.

"Rachel, is everything okay?" my aunt asks, and that's when I clear my throat, trying to find words.

"I...I uh, I just got signed..." I say, almost a whisper.

"You-" Robert starts, standing to make his way over to me and I nod, cutting him off before he can ask.

"Devin just got me a record deal. I have a label now. I..."

There's a smile tugging at my lips, but it's still unbelievable to say and everything over the past few days mixed with the lack of sleep is starting to get to me, so my eyes immediately start watering. He notices, reading me quickly, and takes me in for a big hug, kissing my hair and rubbing his hand up and down my back.

"Honey this is amazing, I'm so proud of you!" he tells me, forgetting the family in the room, and when he releases me, I giggle in a small fit, cupping his face with my hands and give him a kiss which I can't help but laugh into.

There are tears staining my cheeks at this point, but one by one my family stands to give me a hug, each, and then Robert's back to hugging me, almost as excited as I am.

"Congratulations, sweetheart..." he sings, his raspy, deep voice soothing to me.

"Thank you," I laugh in response, trying to dry my eyes with my sleeve over his shoulder. "I can't believe it..."

"Believe it," he urges with another kiss to my head, then releases me again. "Celebratory dinner tonight?" he asks, looking around the group. "On me, we'll go out. After the play?"

"Robert!" I try, but he hushes me.

"Let me treat you to dinner, damn it," he jokes, and I can't help but laugh and nod, leaning my body into his again with my hands over my face and my forehead against his chest. 

"Speaking of..." I hear my grandmother interrupt. "We should get going soon if we want to make it on time. Want to go get the girls ready, Courtney?"

My aunt nods, going toward the door to the porch to call them inside. "Guys, let's go get changed!" she calls, then turns back to me, patting me on the back as I peek out at them and try to calm my breathing. "Congrats again, sweetie."

"I'll let James and Kevin know to meet us there," my grandmother comments, and then the room's empty and I glance up at Robert, his stubble growing back in darker with each passing moment and his dark eyes on me.

"I would be nothing without you," I whisper, looking up at him with his arm still wrapped around my waist. "I'd still be singing in bars, going home to Charlie...and thanks to you-"

"You got here yourself," he argues. "You're more talented than you give yourself credit for. And now you have an open door to do whatever you want with that talent."

"Oh God..." I sigh. "I'm gonna have an actual band. Not just a drummer and my guitar and a bass. Like real instruments."

"You know that sound when you go to a show? Like Sting's, for example," he offers. "That heavy thump of the bass, that deafening vibration that rocks your whole body? That's gonna be you. At your shows once this thing releases. You're gonna have a crowd for you, energy radiating around those arenas for you."

And for once it doesn't scare me. It thrills me. Maybe it's just because Robert's here this time, I don't know. But it isn't like the awards. There are no nerves...I'm just excited, already planning in my head. I know I need to make a presence for myself, give myself an image, and this could go far. So no more shy Rachel. No more hiding from the spotlight Rachel. Things are good right now, and they're about to get a whole lot better.

It's not long before we head out, and we park the cars at the familiar gravel lot by the farm house that houses the play stages. It's a nice day, thankfully, and when we hop out, Robert hands me a ball cap, letting me toss it over my hair and sunglasses. He sports the same with a beanie, covering his hair.

"Is that really necessary?" my grandmother frowns when we start walking toward the door, following the group of people, and I nod.

"Unless you wanna get stopped every three feet," I respond. "And just ignore the cameras if you see them at all tonight."

"And don't answer any questions," Robert adds.

Our seats are just off stage; my grandmother always likes to sit the first few rows, which is normally fine, but the room only houses about 300 people, so picking out Robert and I won't be hard to do. Especially for the actors...they're bound to know who he is. 

And when we make our way through the doors, there's already eyes. He's got his hand in mine, per usual, and as we find the seats, he keeps them locked together in my lap, taking off his glasses but keeping the hat on, as do I. There's a smile over at me and a squeeze to my hand, and while the people fill in, he leans over to me and whispers a few things in my ear over their chatter. 

"So I talked to Jon earlier today. Wanna head back to LA with me after the convention?"

"Yeah, I think I can do that," I agree, happy to have some kind of plan.

"I'm still going to have to work, but you're welcome at the house whenever you want. And we can have date night a couple nights a week, your place or mine," he offers. "And no, I'm not trying to spoil you into fixing things," he chuckles, and I turn my head to roll my eyes at him as he suspects. "I just want to follow some of those rules. Keep us going this time, no problems."

"Then stop planning and just be here with me," I request, stealing a kiss, and he smirks, thumb grazing the back of my hand.

But then the lights dim and we watch the show, a play version of Rock of Ages, which is kind of cool considering Robert and I like the same music, at least. We've both seen it before, too. He's pretty cultured, believe it or not, in all things art. I'm not, so much, but I'll learn the stuff I don't already know from him.

And half time...is that what they call it? Intermission, I think. See how out of tune I am? Anyway, when there's a break, we're approached by the casting director who begs Robert to take a group photo with the cast. So, he does, holding his arms out in that quirky Tony Stark fashion, and says a few words, complimenting their acting, I suppose, and the whole time, I watch with a proud feeling in my gut from our seats.

When the play itself finishes, we make our way outside, stopping to sign a few things for people and take a couple photos, to which my aunt, uncles, and grandmother are not prepared. We warned them, and they didn't believe us... But it isn't as bad as it normally is, just a couple people inviting me to be in their photos with him, as well, which is pretty cool.

When we pass the cast, who are lined up to receive, he stops and compliments them all again.

"Very well done, really," he grins, arms out to gesture to them all. "You rehearsed that one bridge well, didn't you?" he asks next, pointing to one of the lead female singers, who blushes and nods.

"Every night in front of the mirror before bed time," she teases, and I bite my lip, budging Robert who laughs and shows his teeth. 

"I like you," he comments.

And then he's taking selfies with them and signing their scripts, and finally, we're able to leave and drive back into town for dinner, which is full of discussion of the play, celebratory toasts to my record deal, and cute kisses from Robert at my side, giggling into my cheek when he thinks no on else is looking.

I don't think I stop smiling the entire way home, and some wine and shared cigars later, I'm falling sleepily into bed, Robert tucking the both of us in and kissing me lazily into sleep. This is all too perfect...I just hope it can last.


	67. Chapter 67

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Everyone's asking so I just tossed some of the random info I have in here so you can kind of have a taste of it. It's been over a day and I'm still like...lost.

"So we were thinking lunch and then some shopping," my aunt suggests while she pours herself a cup of coffee.

"Sounds great," my grandmother agrees from the table.

I yawn and scroll through my phone, reading fan notifications on Twitter for a little bit. It's late morning and I finally stumbled out of bed to join them, and Robert's in the shower. He was already up and in the bathroom by the time I stirred, so I figured I'd come up and give him some space.

"Rachel?" my aunt questions, waiting to see if I'm in or not.

I grunt in reply, still waking up. "I'll have to see what he wants to do," I mumble. "Might be too easy to get spotted here..."

She frowns, coming to sit with us. "Is it really always that bad?"

I nod. "Well, maybe not as bad here...last night was barely a scene...but definitely a hassle."

Thankfully, we're interrupted by the man of the hour, himself, as he wanders in, helping himself to some coffee with the cup I left him on the counter. Then, he smiles and makes his way over to me, just a t shirt, pajama pants, and wet hair.

"Good morning," he sings, leaning down to kiss my head before pulling up a chair beside me and sitting down with us.

"Mmmm," I groan as I focus on the phone, my head on my hand for support.

"One day you'll be a morning person," he teases, then leans over to inspect what I'm looking at. "Twitter?"

I nod silently.

"Anything good today?"

"Uh," I start, looking at the last thing I stopped on. "They're reviving some old photos of you on the beach in Malibu a couple years back. You still look good in a swimsuit, I guess..."

"You guess?" he blinks, amused.

I smack his knee playfully, and he captures my hand in his under the table, so I give up on the phone and set it down.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Rach, but yeah, he still looks good in a swimsuit," my aunt jokes, taking a sip from her cup.

My jaw drops in amusement and disbelief. "Hey!"

"I'll take the compliment," he grins, going for his coffee again. "Not too often you get it at 49."

"Oh, here we go," I groan playfully, setting my chin in my hand. "The 'I'm so old' complaint."

He nudges me, giving me a fake hurt look and I roll my eyes, deciding to change the subject.

"They want to go out today before we leave. What do you think?"

He shrugs. "Last night wasn't bad. Small enough town."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, why not?" he asks, clearly just trying to fit in.

I frown, lifting my eyes to him. "Fewer people means more chance of being noticed. And for both of us, at that rate...and you don't have security here."

"Don't worry, I can handle it," he assures me, nudging me under the table. "But look at you, miss big time star, needing security to escort her through the seas of fans," he adds dramatically.

"I'm worried about you, not me," I counter, but I can't help but smile back and lean my head against his shoulder instead, batting my eyelashes up at him.

There's warm smiles from the others, I can feel it as their eyes settle on me, amused. But it's okay. Things are okay. 

Funny, isn't it? how just about six months ago, I was stuck with a guy I hated, a job I hated...a life I was hating. I almost died, almost gave up this...for what? Because I wasn't patient? I mean, if you would've told me this is where I'd be...despite our little bump the last month or so...with a record deal, a celebrity boyfriend, my best friend as my manager...God, does it make me look petty.

But it's a good thing. Since yesterday afternoon...since finding out about the record deal, I've been bolder, just like Robert's teasing me about. If I want to make it, I need a stage presence. I can't be afraid. I have to be like him: strong willed, confident, and kind.

And you know what? It's helping us, honestly. The whole time we're in town, getting lunch, we're attached at the hip. We're laughing on the drive home, after promising to make time over the holidays to visit again. He's holding my hand as I fall asleep in the passenger seat, the top up on the car now that it's started sprinkling once we hit the mountains. And he's even doing his best to fit in with my mother and I at dinner, after all that's happened. I'm sure it's awkward for him, knowing she knows everything that happened, but he isn't letting it phase him.

"So I have some news," I announce, picking at the leftovers of my plate at the hotel the convention's going to be hosted at tomorrow.

We're at the bar, seated at a table next to a fireplace of the common area. There's a piano in the corner and the staff's dressed in white, attempting to make it look higher end than most, and it is...but it's nothing compared to the places Robert's put me up in. Guess I'm getting a little bit of a star's head, aren't I?

"Well are you going to tell me or are you just gonna pick at your salad some more?" my mother asks, and before I can answer she jumps to conclusions. "Oh no, Rachel..."

"What?" I ask, looking up at her with confused eyes. 

"You're not drinking," she points out. "You're not..."

"Oh, God, mom, come on!" I whine, looking disgusted and rolling my eyes. "I'm not...pregnant..." I hiss, the last word coming out as a whisper in case anyone else over hears. "What the hell is wrong with everyone?!"

"Nope," Robert chokes on his drink. "We uh...are very much so using protection...and this is very much so not something I want to be admitting to my girlfriend's mother...no offense..." he mumbles into his hand as he cleans up the water he didn't capture in his mouth.

"Well what the hell do you want me to think, Rachel?!"

"I don't know," I snap back, voice a little louder. "Maybe that I have news that doesn't involve a baby!"

And that earns a couple intrigued glances from the people lounging around us, and I sigh, shielding my face as I growl out, "not pregnant!"

I guess it kind of annoys me, too, because no one really knows what I told Robert. I never told Devin. I meant to, but I chickened out cause there was never a right moment. And my mom...how do I tell her she probably won't have grandchildren? I mean, dating a guy who's nearly fifty should sort of say that all on it's own, but...I don't know, maybe he still wants to try, and maybe we don't have to be married to...you know, get it done early while he's still sort of young?

Okay, slow down there, brain. No one's going anywhere, you can't even have sex with the man yet...again. Have sex again...

"Rachel?" my mom quips again and I blink my attention back to her, blushing.

"I uh..." I start, clearing my throat and dodging Robert's raised eyebrow. "Yeah, hi."

"Hi," Robert grins. "We lose you there for a second?"

I laugh at myself, shaking my head. "Sorry...I'm okay. I just can't believe it still," I use as an excuse...it isn't a lie. "Mom, Dev got me a contract with Eclipse. They offered me a full record deal."

"She what?" she asks, not processing.

"I'm recording an album," I say, biting my lip an waiting for a real response. "Not just a couple songs, but a full blown thing."

"Which can lead to a tour, award nominations..." Robert hints, and I glance at him with suppressed excitement.

"Oh my God..." she finally answers, eyes lighting up. "Holy shit, Rachel, you did it!"

"I know!" I agree, squealing out my excitement finally.

And with that she pushes out of her seat and this is the first time she's hugged me since dropping me off at rehab. This time it's for something happy. Something good.

"I'm so proud of you," she tells me over my shoulder, ignoring the eyes definitely now on us. "I'm so proud to have you as my daughter... I told you you had a reason to live, and this is it. This is it Rachel, this..."

And then she's releasing me, turning to Robert and waving him on. He drops the phone he's taking a photo with without telling me, and then she's embracing him next. Yeah, everyone totally thinks we're engaged or pregnant or some shit now, but whatever.

"Thank you..." I hear her tell him, and it warms my heart. "Thank you so much for taking care of her."

"Mom," I laugh. "Are you gonna be okay?"

I've never seen her like this...never seen her so excited.

She does finally settle down, and then we finish out dinner with a large tip to the bar staff and she goes to call a cab to go back home, but Robert insists on driving her back.

"Are you sure?" she asks, and he nods. "I don't really know where I'm going, so you'll have to tell me, but I'd rather drive you than have you take a cab."

"You're gonna get mobbed coming back," she protests, and he raises a hand.

"Please, do you see anyone here jumping at me?"

"Not yet," she sighs. "But by the time you get back, word will get around, and..."

"We can use the back entrance," I interject. "It's all cleared with hotel staff."

But he kisses my cheek and disagrees politely. "You stay, go get ready for your big day tomorrow," he requests. "I'll be back in an hour."

"What?" I ask, reading his dimly lit face from the side as he turns back to my mom and digs his keys from his pocket. "Bobby, I can come with you so you know where you're going."

"Babe, I got this," he promises. "I don't have anywhere to be tomorrow, you do."

I have no choice but to agree, so I sigh, giving up. "Fine...fine, do you have your key?"

"Yup," he confirms, patting his back pocket where his wallet is, then leans in for a kiss. "I'll try my best not to wake you if you're asleep when I get back," he promises. "Love you."

"Love you more..." I murmur. "Be careful, please."

"What, you worried about me again?" he teases, and I watch then as he walks with my mom outside, already striking up a conversation with her.

After watching him wrap a protective arm around her to shield her from a couple cameras, I ditch the table to head upstairs. I could go for a shower, some time alone to work on some singing. Yeah, I sing in the shower, so what? The vocals always ring nicely in there. Plus, I usually wind up thinking in the shower, too, and Lord, is my head full of nonsense. The baby talk, how he wanted to do something nice for my mom... I feel like he's still going out of his way to make sure everything's perfect, but at least it isn't some grand gesture like the flowers and candles before...

Regardless, all my thinking does is lead back to where I started as I finally sink into the bed sometime later in the dark room. I lay on my side, facing the window, and place my phone out of reach on the charger, with the volume on just in case Robert needs something. 

Tomorrow's the first of three days at the convention; Devin added the rest of the weekend at some point while I was moping around, I guess, but ow it works perfectly with an album coming out. She has photos printed and ready to go, which she'll be bringing tomorrow, and the convention has printed a banner for behind the table. She's picked up my favorite pens, and Robert's sworn to have gotten a stylist in to trim his hair in the morning and get me ready for my first big appearance outside of the tours. Sure, it isn't San Diego Comic Con or anything, but still...

And all of this I might have missed. Charlie's fault or not, it was my fault that I almost ODed and put this all in jeopardy, and I am so fucking lucky to have Robert in my life. He was there then, he's here now, and despite how much of an ass I've been to him recently -

"Hey," I hear, just a whisper, but loud enough to make me jump in bed, but not lift my head. "You still up?"

Then a door closes, and there's shoes kicked in the hall to the bathroom, and then Robert's collapsing into the bed, over the sheets, being a dramatic shit.

"Now I'm up..." I grumble, and he chuckles.

"I know you don't fall asleep on that side," he comments. "You're on my side of the bed."

"This used to be my side," I answer, still deep in my thoughts, and he hums something in response before attaching himself to me, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"The deer are fucking nuts here," he changes the subject. "Just so you know. They have no manners."

"You hit one?" I ask, try to sound interested, but I'm fighting myself internally over whether or not to tell him what's on my mind.

"Almost. Dodged em, thank God. Didn't feel like having something else on the car to fix up right now..." Then he lays down behind me, hands wrapping around me, not bothering getting up to get changed for bed, and I guess he picks up on my mood. "You okay? Your heart's beating a thousand miles a second..."

I hesitate, but it isn't for long. I have this weird urge to tell him exactly what I'm thinking as I realize it. This calm, for the first time, that he isn't going to leave, that he isn't going to cause a scene...

"I was trying to kill myself," I finally whisper, refusing to face him.

I don't know. I guess something in me just needed to let it out. I didn't realize it at the time but after earlier and how respectful he's been all weekend, with not pushing sex and just being himself... He's doing everything I asked and I think I just need him to know...

"What?"

It's concerned. Delicate, as if he doesn't want to understand.

"That night with the pills. I told you I didn't mean to, but I knew they'd stop the pain and I didn't even second guess taking them. All of them. I was okay with dying...I was trying to die. And I lied because I kept trying to convince myself it was a mistake, because then you were there, and you haven't left since..."

I wait, but he doesn't answer. Instead, he shifts and pulls me toward him by my shoulder, and my chest is rising and falling too fast for comfort. I can feel my forehead creasing as I bite my cheek inside my mouth and meet his eyes. Even in the dark I can see the concern there. They roam my face, taking it in, and then he surprises me.

He still doesn't speak, he just captures my lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth and his weight shifting as he rolls on top of me. His fingers run through my hair and I shiver at the intimacy. And right now...right now I don't care about waiting anymore. He's taken the hint that I'm trusting him, really trusting him...and I return the gesture by kissing him back, strong, and pulling him closer, hands on his shoulders.

I guess he understands, because he cups my neck with one hand and lets his other travel down my side, reaching the hem of my shirt. His touch tickles, light and feathery, and the need to be close to him overwhelms me. My hand travels down to his ass involuntarily, squeezing and feeling him, and he finally breaks our kiss to stifle a low moan.

And that's when he talks, but he doesn't comment on what I told him.

"I'll uh...they're in my bag, I gotta..." he mumbles lowly, and I nod silently, watching as he slips out of bed and fishes through his bag at the other side of the room for protection.

He strips before coming back, so I take the time to remove my own clothes under the covers, getting ready for him when he returns. He can't see it, but in the meantime, I'm blushing watching him stroke himself a few times as he pads back, prepping himself before slipping the condom on. It's honestly...the first time I think I've seen him touch himself like that and it's erotic as hell, but he's not trying to be kinky right now, so I bury that deep within my memories for later.

"Hey, beautiful," he whispers when he climbs back into bed, pausing to look at me before anything else.

"Hey, handsome..." I answer, despite my heart still beating out of control.

"You know I love you more than anything, right?"

I nod, my eyes traveling to his hair as I slick back a curl. "I'm okay, Bobby. I love you too, but I'm more than okay now."

With a small tug of his lips, his leans back in, lips back on mine and hand traveling back down my now bare side until he reaches my thigh, pulling it up around him as he normally does. And it's easy with him...being ready, I mean. There's not much foreplay involved and that's fine. I'm more than prepared when he pushes in and starts rocking us gently against the mattress, sending me into a slow, relaxed bliss that speaks volumes. There's sweat glistening between us, and his body's shaking when he withdraws and leaves the bed for the bathroom, and I catch my breath, staring up at the ceiling and thinking.

Thinking about everything. Him, us. The emotional impact of finally having sex again. Yeah, it was only a week, whatever. But to me it was a big deal. Admitting I didn't want to live to him. His 'I love you more than anything'.

And when he rejoins me in bed, he's quick to pick up on me biting my lip to keep the tears in.

"Do you want to talk?" he asks quietly, arm draping over my stomach as he cuddles into my side for once, his chin rested on my shoulder.

"Not about that," I answer. "I just wanted you to know the truth."

"I'm glad you're still here," he murmurs into my skin and my hands move to hold onto his arm as I turn my head to breathe in the scent of his shampoo from his hair. "You don't think about that now-"

"No," I interrupt. "No, never."

"Good girl..."

There's a few moments of silence, with nothing but his steady breathing and the trace of his thumb carving small circles into my bicep where he holds onto me. The warmth from his skin radiates, keeping me hot under the sheets. All except for...

"Stop!" I suddenly giggle and squirm when I realize he's purposely rubbing his cold feet against my leg.

I can feel him grin into my shoulder as he holds me tighter so I stop fidgeting and he boldly shoves them against my warm skin. "Stop what?"

"You know what you're doing!"

"I know nothing of the sort."

"Don't make me regret sleeping with you, you ass!" I scold playfully, and he chuckles lightly.

"Like you'd regret getting into bed with this..." he teases back. "Admit it, I'm the best you've had."

I immediately blush, feeling my face heat up. He isn't wrong. I've been with more than just Charlie, but Robert's still...yeah, he still takes home the cake, by far.

"Holy shit, I am, aren't I?" he asks next, lifting his head in both surprise and amusement. "I was just fucking with you, you know, mentally, not-"

"You don't have to explain that," I sigh. "Yes...okay, yes, you're...yeah..."

"I'm what?" he grins, his perfect teeth shining in the darkness. "Come on, you can say it."

"Robert!"

"Are you embarrassed?!" he laughs.

"No," I snap back. "I just...didn't ever expect to be admitting Robert Downey Jr is the best lover I've had...kind of not normal shit."

"I'm the best sex you've had, huh?" he repeats, apparently proud of himself. "Not so old now, am I?"

"I never called you old, you call yourself old," I remind him. Then, after a moment..."what about you? Who's your best?"

I kind of don't want to ask because I don't want to be let down. But we haven't really talked about sex yet, and...

"Well, I've had a lot of sex," he exhales, and I roll my eyes and groan, rolling over onto my side.

"Never mind," I huff.

"Hey, hey, hey," he scolds and something about his voice reminds me of the weird little dork I used to watch interviews of. "I didn't even answer yet."

So I turn back, waiting with a raised eyebrow.

"Sarah," he states, and I blink, not sure how to process that one.

"Oh," I finally let out. "Yeah, I can understand-"

"It's you," he giggles, laughter high pitched and adorable. "Swear to God, I just wanted to see your reaction."

"Yeah, okay..." I mumble, trying to turn back, but he doesn't let me.

"You wanna know how many times I've gotten my partner to come with me?"

"We do it all the time," I answer, confused; why is he trying to use that to prove a point?

But then he explains. "Exactly. We do, but that never happened with anyone else. Well, without help, anyway."

And that spikes my interest. "Mr Downey," I gasp, "have you played around with...?!"

"You're not good at sex talk, are you?" he chuckles, shaking his head to make sure his hair leaves his eyes. "Have I used toys? Yes. Is that surprising?"

"Not really," I admit. "I just didn't think...I mean, we've been so tame..."

"That's because I'm not going to push you into things before you're ready, given everything that's happened," he informs me, walking his fingers up my arm for his own entertainment as he holds his head up in his hand. "When you're ready, we can talk about spicing things up."

I swallow, not sure what the hell that means, but I kind of want to find out. "I'm ready..." I whisper.

To this, he raises and eyebrow and snaps his brown eyes back from his fingers on my shoulder to my own, narrowing them as he studies me. And then...

"No you're not."

"What?" I answer almost instantly. "I just told you-"

"You also just had a panic attack two months ago when I only tied your hands up," he reminds me. 

"Yeah," I agree. "But that was two months ago. Things are...different now."

"Different?" he repeats. "How?"

"Well...now you're fucking a major label recording artist," I state boldly, trying to sound serious, but he only giggles again in return, giving me puppy dog eyes after dropping his head down for a second. 

"Honey, that wasn't fucking. We made love."

"I'm still a recording artist..." I mumble, and he kisses my shoulder with a grin.

"Yes, yes you are," he celebrates quietly. "Why don't we talk about that, hmm?"

But I'm still feeling bold, and...connected right now, so I shake my head against the pillow. "Nope. No switching subjects."

He sighs, giving in and lays his head back down. "Fine, fine. I'll let you ask anything you want, but we're not doing any of it, you have a busy day tomorrow."

"Okay," I agree. "So do you...like the ties, do you..."

"Do I what? Do I like being on the receiving end?" he smirks. "Rach, if you want to talk you have to say some words here."

"It's weird..." I sigh. "But I want to know."

"Okay, I'll ask a question then," he decides. "But yes, I do enjoy being the one who's tied up."

"Okay..." I squeak, blushing horribly at the thought of that. "Noted."

"So...something we should've talked about. Birth control. You on, off?"

"I'm uh...they won't let me near a pharmacy, remember?" I sigh. "And my mom's got high blood pressure, so they don't really advise me getting on it just in case, since we don't know much about how my dad is, so..."

"So, no," he gathers. "That's fine, we'll just keep using condoms."

"Do you..do you not...usually?" I ask, needing to know.

"I've uh...well, I'm pretty good at pulling out-" he offers, but I'm quick to hush that up.

"I think that hot tub was a one time thing," I warn, remember the time I stupidly agreed to let him go without. "Not that I didn't enjoy that, but..."

"Don't risk it," he agrees. "It's cool, no complaints here. Let's see...top or bottom?"

"Bottom," I say sheepishly, biting my lip. "Just cause I like kissing you... What about you?"

"Bottom," he laughs. 

"What?! Why haven't you said anything?!" I nearly yell and he runs his hand down my cheek, silently trying to get me to relax.

"Because I could tell you like how things are going," he grins. "I'm not bored, if that's what you think. Positions or toys or fuck, even other people...I don't need those things."

"Other people?!" I choke out, breath catching.

Did I miss something?!

"I wouldn't say no to a threesome, that'd be pretty hot," he grins, and I can tell he wants me to panic; he's won. "Relax, good Lord. I'm just messing with you."

"I don't think you are..."

"I am," he promises. "I mean...but if you wanna try kissing another chick if you're bored, I'll be glad to give pointers, and-"

I groan, shoving him lightly and try to calm my burning face while he giggles like a child.

"God, I love embarrassing you."

"I'm not em-"

"You are more than enough," he says anyway, ignoring me, and places another kiss to my shoulder like before. "Stop over thinking."

I sigh, feeling like and idiot for not knowing this already. "Yeah, but-"

"No buts," he tries to reassure me. "But if you're that concerned, we can try out something new. Just don't get the wrong idea. I'm not gonna be super kinky and assertive all the time. I don't wanna be the girl here, no offense, but I'm like...a delicate flower, I guess. Sex is more than just fucking around to me."

"I know," I confirm. "I just feel like I should've known these things already..."

"It just hasn't come up," he shrugs against the sheets. "Is there anything else you want to know?"

"No," I whisper. "Maybe just how the hell I'm supposed to sleep now with that information."

"The same way I'm supposed to sleep knowing you didn't want to stay alive for all of this," he answers sincerely, dropping the fun and games. 

And that hurts. It isn't that I didn't want to live for this. I just didn't think this existed. But I don't need to keep explaining. He knows. I know he knows. He's just upset.

"You're in the best years of your life right now, Rachel Thomas," he swears as he rolls on his back and pulls me against his chest. "With or without me, you're about to be a star, and trust me...that's worth sticking around for."


	68. Chapter 68

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut and weird shit at the end. Also half asleep, sorry if this is terrible lmao

This is weird. This is so weird. There's actual people here. People here for me. And they have been all morning.

Devin's been dealing with money, and we have a security guard standing by. It's a small convention, but given my ties with Robert, yadda yadda...security, protection, whatever. 

And speaking of Robert...well, he's been upstairs signing posters all morning for Jon. Shortly before I left, someone dropped them off, and he claimed to have a call with Kevin after he talked to Jon, so he's busying himself in work for the first half of the day. He had a stylist meet us early on, while my ass was pretty much still asleep, and I was quickly prepped and tossed into Devin's room for wardrobe, and I've been here all morning, since doors opened at 10. 

Well, to be fair, I'm on a schedule so it isn't all day. I started with photos around 11 after nervously pacing the back halls, and that actually went over really well. But it's funny...the tour brought all of these new fans that started out as Sting's fans, right? These people...at least half of them are in t shirts with arc reactors and Iron Man's helmet on them. It's fine by me, but I never, ever dreamed that I'd be the one all of these Iron Man fans would be coming to meet.

Other than that, it's similar to the meet and greets during tour and for the EP release, and thank God for that. I'm kind of in my element after things start moving, and about noon I take a lunch break, heading to the back where they have a buffet set up for the guests. Devin joins, and she's already dishing out plans about the album and recording times and has me even sign a few papers at the table while we eat.

"So you'll sign here to agree to paying for the studio space, and then this one is an up front fee for the label," she tells me, pointing to the papers as I attempt to quickly read them. "This one is for your songs, to keep them yours and protect them from the label or anyone else from pirating them before they're copyrighted. And this one-"

"Devin," I groan. "I'll read them later, okay? Can I take a few days to make sure I understand everything?"

"You have till Tuesday," she warns. "If you can keep your mind on them and not what's waiting for you in your room, then yes."

"Dev!" I blush. "I...last night was the first since..."

"So everything's okay, then?" she asks, eyebrow raised but voice in a hush. "Did you find out why-"

"We talked. It's personal."

"Ouch," she huffs. "Point taken."

"Don't give me that," I scold, tossing my napkin from my sandwich on my dish. "You know I tell you everything. But this stuff, the drug stuff...it has to stay between me and him."

She nods slightly. "Just tell me if he's still sober."

"He is," I confirm. "He explained, and we had a few days of some tension, some awkward talks...but I think we're going to be okay."

Her lips twitch, but she agrees to let it go, then sifts back into business. "Fine, fine, but just promise me you'll read those. "They want a spring release, which means you'll be working with you band for most of November, and-"

"Did you get-" I start, but she smirks, one step ahead of me.

"Dave? Yep. Called him this week, he's in."

"Good," I sigh, glad to know I'll have my favorite drummer at hand.

"They'll drop a single in December, just before the holidays, so you can play Time's Square for New Year's Rockin' Eve, and a music video in January, and-"

"What?!" I yell dramatically, choking on my drink, and thank God Friday doesn't have many guests so we're alone, aside from a few staff...a couple guys who have been too shy to approach.

When she grins back at me, she grabs my shoulders, for dramatic effect. "You, got, New, Year's, Eve," she repeats.

She knows how much that means to me. How much I love that holiday, how much I've wanted to go just to watch as a fan, as a tourist. And Robert promised to take me, but... Now...now...

"Get used to this, Rach," she tells me after going back to her papers, in full boss mode. "This album drop and your promotions are going to be insane. That's what we're working with this label for. That, and your millionaire boyfriend dropping a few tweets won't hurt, either."

"You mean I'm actually going to be play..." I heave.

"Yes, if you can get me a single in time! The next few months are going to be cramped, so I hope you have some stuff ready to go."

"Yeah, yeah, of course," I agree too quickly, then feel my stomach drop when I realize that means working through the holidays. "Wait, we're going away..."

"Who's going away?"

"Robert and I, we were gonna take a vacation..."

"Rach," she sighs. "I don't want to be the bad guy here, but this is your career. You'll have a couple days over the holidays, I'm sure he'll understand..."

"It was one of the stipulations to us getting back together," I argue. "I promised, and he's keeping my side of things, so I have to keep his."

Groaning, she rubs her forehead with her hand, then pulls out her phone and makes a note "Fine, I'll see if I can get you a few extra days, but that's all I can do."

And then I have to head back to the table to do some autographs at one, but not without an excited call to Robert upstairs first to share the news. But he doesn't answer, and I don't want to bother him so I don't leave a voicemail.

This part's a little more fun, because I have more time to talk with people and take selfies if they want one, and I'm immediately absorbed. Time flies, of course, and before I know it I'm met with a carbon copy of my high school self.

"I taught myself guitar this year because of you," a young girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, tells me while I'm signing the single case she handed me. "I entered the school's talent show...I didn't win, but I've never done anything like that before..."

I look up when I hand her back the CD slip, appreciation showing on my face. These kinds of moments are still crazy to me...despite the small line at my table, there is no way I'll ever get sick of this. I was her, I was that small girl, just trying to fit in. And now I'm inspiring them? It's insane.

"Hey, it's not about winning," I encourage. "If you like doing it, keep at it. I started in school, too!"

She nods with sparkling eyes. "I know, they have a plaque for you in the hall..."

My jaw drops, stunned; they did what?! "At...wait, you go to Grove Hill?!"

She nods again with a big grin. "They just put it up this fall...I'm graduating this year."

"Congratulations!" I say excitedly, remembering how much fun I had my senior year with Devin. "You're going to go so far." Then, I take her in for a hug. "Thank you so much for coming to see me! I'm really happy I got to meet you!"

She nearly cries when I release her, clutching onto the single case as I wave goodbye and welcome the next girl, maybe just a little younger with her older brother, I think, to her side. He doesn't look too thrilled, but hey, no offense taken. She's got a photo of me on stage, and when she sets it down and says hello nearly in a whisper, I notice the Iron Man arc reactor on her shirt. I smirk while reaching for a marker to sign her photo.

"Nice shirt," I comment, then add a heart and send the photo back to her.

She blushes like mad, obviously a shy one. "Th...thank you."

Her brother nudges her from the side and she clears her throat. I smile warmly, trying to encourage her to talk. I know how this is...I've been through it several times. I swear I still go through it with Robert sometimes.

"I um," she continues quietly. "I really, really love your music. I saw you live once with Sting in Ohio..."

My heart melts, still stunned that people are here to see me. "You traveled all the way to Ohio for me?!"

She shakes her head. "We actually live in Cleveland...we drove out to meet you today."

"Oh my God!" I gasp. "You are the absolute best! That means so much to me!"

She starts to warm up, a smile on her lips. "Can I...ask you a question?"

"Sure!"

"Are you really dating Robert Downey Jr?" she asks.

It's not the first time I've been asked today, honestly. It's probably one in every five that has asked something similar.

I open my mouth to answer, but then there's a commotion from the entrance to the hall, more so than normal. My eyes flash behind the girl and then I catch sight of people with their cameras out, taking photos of whoever it is. And then I know immediately.

A group of security is circling around what appears to be a cosplayer...and Iron Man suit. But it's too spot on to be a cosplayer, and I know that unit anywhere after seeing it up close and personal on set. The security detail escorts him across the room and of course, he's headed straight for my table. I watch with bewilderment on my face until he reaches the table and wanders behind my own security guard, towering over me with his arms stretched out. I flinch when the bulky ceramic armor attempts to hug me and scowl, pushing him off.

"What is this?!" I ask, stunned that he actually did it. "Are you serious?!"

He pops off the helmet, setting it on the table, and reveals his grinning, sweaty face. Instantly there's louder talk and a big group forming as people shout his name.

"What are you doing here?!"

"Thought I'd surprise you," Roberto himself answers. "I was bored, and you said you wanted me to bring the suit..."

"Yeah, like...four months ago! I was kidding!" I insist, blushing. Then, "I thought you had meetings this morning."

"I did, and now it's two in the afternoon."

I glance at my phone, realizing he's right, and sigh. "You're gonna be stuck here now, ya know," I inform him, looking back to my line which is now more of a mob.

He shrugs in the suit. "Not like this is coming off anytime soon, anyway..."

"What happens when you have to pee?" I tease, and he smirks back.

"It has a filtration system."

"No it doesn't, Downey," I answer dryly. "You definitely did not think this through."

"It's fine," he promises. "You do your thing, I'm just here for entertainment."

I sigh again, listening to the squeals of several girls in the crowd. Then, my gaze rests on the girl who's in front again, the one who I just signed for.

"I guess this answers your question," I laugh awkwardly, then decide to put him to use. "Want a photo?"

She nods eagerly and I have one of the security take it while the others start condensing the line into something somewhat single file. She steps up between us and Robert holds out his hand in his usual pose. She hugs the suit and then nearly screams with excitement when she wanders off, too nervous or shy to actually talk to Robert.

"Can we uh, can we get a minute while this line settles down?" I ask the security with the phone, who nods. "You can tell them we'll do photos, I just gotta discuss something with my very...outgoing boyfriend for a moment..."

I playfully glare at him when I say that, but then pull him behind the curtain to the safety of the "backstage" part of the set up.

"You're ridiculous," I mumble and cross my arms over my chest as I lean against the wall. "This place is about to get crazy once word gets around."

He raises an eyebrow, not concerned in the slightest. "You said you wanted me to try to be better with fans," he explains, sounding hurt. "So that's what I'm doing..."

I search his eyes, quiet, then sigh, admitting defeat. "Fine, fine... You're right. But did you really need the entire suit? You could've just brought the arm or something..."

He grins, this time looking like he's upset he didn't think of that, but won't admit it. Then, he quickly wipes that away and leans against the wall, hovering over my with his arm supporting him. His hand rests near my head, holding him up.

"Come on, admit it," he smirks. "You love it."

"What, Iron Man?" I ask dumbly. "Yes, I like Iron Man."

"Nope," he argues. "You love Iron Man."

I bite my lip playfully. "No, I love Robert Downey Jr, there's a difference."

"Mmmm, all these 'differences' with you lately..." he hums in agreement, leaning his face down closer to me, the chest plate and light up arc reactor pressing against my body. "But don't say you've never wanted to kiss Tony Stark in the suit."

I giggle lightly; he's right. Ever since Gwyneth had the chance to in Iron Man 2.

"Maybe...but I'll settle for kissing my boyfriend in the suit," I offer in a whisper as I bring my arm up the cool ceramic and around his neck, my lips brushing against his. "He's hotter, anyway..."

He nearly moans in approval when I finally agree to kiss him, pressing my lips down and holding onto his neck, the suit bulky and hard to maneuver around. It hits me then, what's actually happening, and I tighten my grip on his neck, digging my nails into the base of his hair. I swipe my tongue across his lower lip and he lets me in, kissing me sweetly as his mouth dances with mine. I can feel my cheeks heat up, thinking about the fact that we're currently making out, while he's in the Iron Man suit, and it's actually Tony Stark himself, not just someone pretending to be him or something. I let a small groan escape my throat and then feel his lips twerk upwards before he pulls away.

"Weird?" he breathes, knowing just how to play me.

My eyes sparkle as I smile, realizing he's doing it on purpose to test me. "No, it's not weird."

Instead of continuing with the script, though, he chuckles lightly and pushes himself off the wall. "Good, cause you were getting a little excited there, Rach."

I blush as I get a few intense looks as a couple crew members pass, their eyes wide as they recognize Robert. I sigh, standing tall again, and head back for the table.

"Wait till later and if you're lucky, I'll let ya take it off," he whispers into my ear. "I'm sure you wouldn't say no to Tony Stark, would you?"

I fight to steady my breathing, taken aback by that suggestion. Since last night...my mind's been all over the place with possibilities.

"Just...stand pretty for the cameras," I sigh.

And then we're doing couples photos until about an hour later, when he decides he's had enough of the suit and we need a short break. My line's become more of a line a big con should have, not this little hole in the wall, but I don't think the place cares. Everyone's excited by Robert's, well, to be honest, first convention appearance. Not like he was planned, but...he never does these things, and I know he's only doing it for me.

"Sorry," he grins with guilt as the crew tries to dismantle the suit, drilling and pulling at the pieces when we make it backstage and to the empty lunch room. "I forgot how much of a hassle this thing was."

"This is weirdly exactly the same as that scene in the first movie, only they're not bots," I point out, my arms crossed as I lean against the wall and watch.

One of the crew members, a younger guy, laughs and nods, agreeing.

"See, even they think you're crazy," I tease.

"Okay, Pepper," he shoots back with a wider grin.

I raise an eyebrow, a smirk on my lips. "Don't you start with me, Downey," I warn.

I'm needed back at the table for another hour, though, my day ending just before dinner, and about half way through that, he rejoins me after slicking his hair back and tossing on a pair of red tinted glasses. I know we've been intimate, but I haven't really been paying much attention to his facial hair, and it only now dawns on me how much has grown back in. He reminds me a ton of Tony from the first Iron Man with this look...

Honestly, he's signing with me now, on my photos for the hell of it, if they don't have a t shirt or something else Iron Man related, though there are a couple Tony Stark look a likes that come through, with the helmet and all.

"This is awesome," he points out, grinning over at me as he signs a face plate for one of them. "It's like meeting myself. About fifty times."

"The world can only handle one of you," I sing, also signing a photo for the man.

He takes a selfie, and then while there's a break in the guests, Devin frantically trying to keep up with money, I reach over and scratch his goatee, smirking.

"Did you let this grow back in just for today?" I ask, grinning as he scrunches up his face and sticks out his tongue at me.

"It's just a little bit of scruff," he counters. "Not the full Tony thing."

"I still like it," I admit. "You know I like you scruffy...not that you're bad without, but I missed this."

"Yeah?" he teases, eyebrow raises.

"Yeah," I confirm, tugging his glasses off and putting them on my face instead.

He just watches, eyes dancing across my face in amusement as I turn back to the guests and see the girl in front of us who's probably about to cry, by the looks of it.

"You two are so adorable," she sighs. "I'm sorry if that's weird, I just had to say it."

"Thank you," I laugh, signing her CD case. "So are you."

Then I pass it to Robert, who signs as well, getting back to the routine we've struck up until the event's ending for the day and he and I decide to order room service with Devin. She thankfully doesn't fill him in on all of my news; I want to do that myself, and maybe ask him what he thinks about those contracts...but I'm exhausted after a full day of being my happiest, so I decide to take a warm shower after Devin dismisses herself for the night and Robert starts cleaning up his work station he's set up at the desk...or so he says.

I strip off my shirt and my skirt, leaving the bathroom in only my underwear as I go on a hunt for my pajamas in my suitcase. It's funny how normal it is for my wander around in my underwear in front of him now...or even nude. The nervousness has well vanished, leaving me more confident than when we first started dating.

"Babe, have you seen my Police shirt?" I ask, looking for the vintage one he gave me a couple months ago in my bag on the floor.

"You mean my Police shirt?" he teases, wandering over from the desk against the wall.

I turn and put my hands on my hips, cocking an eyebrow as I shoot him that look, but before I can follow through, he's swooped his arm behind me and pulled me to him. His lips meet my neck, his mouth slowly kissing up to my ear, and I can feel something cool on my back.

"You won't need it," he whispers into my ear before nibbling on it, sending chills down my spine.

"Robert," I gasp, hands reaching his shoulders. "Did you...actually bring that thing...up here?" I manage when his lips find my sensitive skin again.

He pulls away, waving the metal arm from the suit at me, flexing his fingers through the glove. It's then that I note he's put his silly tinted glasses back on, too, and he's got that signature smirk plastered on his lips.

"You seemed to like it downstairs," he says casually. "So..."

I swallow nervously, my eyes flaring in agreement; he's right, it was kinda hot while he was still in the suit, but it was never a practical idea.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, stepping back and pushing me further toward the bed with the smooth arm.

"What?" I breathe, watching his eyes darken.

"Do you trust me? I need to hear it."

I analyze him, then nod shyly. "Yes...why?"

"Safeword?" he asks, coming close and wrapping his arm around my waist as he leans me back against the bed.

"For what?" I ask, now completely confused as he lays me down.

He smirks again. "A little role play...if you're up for it," he murmurs into my neck, leaning down to continue his kisses from earlier as he straddles my waist. "A good starting point from what we talked about last night."

I gasp, feeling his tongue graze over my skin and shiver slightly, realizing I'm still only in my underwear. I squirm but he holds me still with the gloved arm.

"Safeword?" he repeats.

"Uh...Captain America," I decide, humorously playing him at his own game.

He pulls back, smirking, then traces my cheek with his iron glove. "Cheeky, I like it...hands above your head."

I blink, sucking in a breath, but agree. Slowly, they meet the pillow above me, shaking nervously. Then, he reaches up, and I feel the cool, silky feel of a slip material wrapping around my wrists. I tilt my head back, biting my lip, and watch him tie my hands into place against the headboard until I can't move them.

"Good," he murmurs, tracing his ceramic fingers back down my one arm and to to my chin, tickling me slightly. "Use the safeword and I'll stop, okay? Promise."

I nod, slightly afraid, but definitely turned on. Then, my sight goes black as he lifts my head and ties something around my eyes. I can't see him, and that freaks me out...until his voice sounds back in my ear and I let out a short gasp.

"Since I know how much you love Tony, I thought we could play a little game for fun..." he whispers. "I'm gonna show you exactly what it's like to be in bed with Iron Man. So, from now on, you address me as Mr Stark, Tony, or sir, got it?"

I nod. "Yes," I breathe excitedly.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir," I stutter, biting my lip as he kisses up my jaw before planting a big kiss on my mouth.

I lean up, begging silently for more when he pulls away, but don't succeed. I can hear him laughing softly, playfully, but I'm too sexually frustrated already to do anything but pout.

"You're not gonna know where I am," he whispers, then places a lick on my collar bone. "Or when I'm gonna touch you next."

Suddenly, I feel a feathery touch between my legs, lightly grazing me through my underwear. I gasp, lifting my head from the pillow as I squirm, wanting more.

"One last rule..." he adds, and I feel him shift down. "You have to ask before you can come...and I have to say yes."

I groan, realizing that is extremely difficult for me. "Babe, I don't know if-"

"Ah!" he scolds. "What was the first rule?"

I sigh, snippy now with my remark. "Tony," I answer dramatically.

But he only laughs and kisses my cheek reassuringly. "I'm not gonna say no, relax," he whispers, a moment out of character, and I exhale in relief. "Now where were we?"

He doesn't spare me a moment to answer before he removes himself from the bed, leaving me alone and it freaks me out. But I can hear the rustling of his shirt as he strips, and I know he's just preparing himself, no big deal.

And is it weird if I like...don't believe he's trying to be Tony now? Maybe it's worn off on me because all I can think of is Robert, not Stark, not Iron Man.

Well, until he's back on top of me, his lips instantly at my neck and his body pressed against mine. And I want to touch him. I want to hang onto those shoulders, those hips, that ass...and I can't. And he must find it humorous when I jerk my hands forward anyway, because I can hear his muffled chuckle.

"Easy there," he teases, and while he has me distracted, he slips a hand between us and tugs at my underwear, pulling them down as his lips go further south. "Now if you're good," he speaks into my abdomen, "I'll give you what you want. But start squirming and I won't hesitate to draw this out."

I simply whine in response as he carefully strokes right where I want him, feathery at first, a ghost like touch. My teeth are biting into my lip so hard I can't believe I haven't drawn blood.

"Already ready for me, hmm?" he presses as his fingers leave a cool, wet trail as they move back up my stomach. 

"Always," I whisper, trying to be cocky, but it's too delicate for that.

"Good," he answers easily, and then just as fast, his mouth is back on mine, capturing my lower lip between his teeth as I squeak in surprise.

I can tell it's another distraction, but I don't even care. I'm too annoyed that I can't feel him, so when he settles between my legs and pushes in until he bottoms out, I groan into his mouth.

I can feel the cool metal of the gauntlet holding my hips in place at one side, and it's driving me insane as he starts thrusting, moving swiftly and at a steady pace. Between his soft groans and the feeling of him pinning me down, I'm thrilled with a whole new excitement I've never felt. Why? I don't know. I'm not afraid this time, probably because...like I said...he's still Robert in my head, not Tony or whatever he wants to be right now.

Or, that is until he breaks the kiss and lets out a low groan, his voice sexy as hell in my blind ear.

"Fuck," he curses. "You like that?"

And I gasp in response when he hits particularly hard into me and agree on a breath. "Yes...God yes...."

"I'm not God, that's ridiculous," he quips back and I would scold him for that, too, but I can feel him messing with the ties on my hands already.

With ease, he keeps us connected and rolls us over so he's on his back and his iron arm is squeezing my ass as I straddle his hips.

"Ride me until I come," he demands, and I nod, still in darkness, feeling for his shoulders before lifting myself up and the pressing back down. "Shit..." he grunts under me as I pick up a pace. "That's it...want some help?"

"Please," I breathe, thinking he wants to meet my movements, but no, he's only slipping a hand between us and helping push me to my edge, surprisingly me when he touches me there.

"Remember what I said," he teases, but his gloved hand is still occupied by holding onto my ass. "Ask me."

With each movement, each circle on me or press of my hips, I can feel my breath getting shorter and shorter. I can feel myself getting closer to the edge, closer to needing to speak up, but I'm fueled by the groans of satisfaction that are falling from his lips right now to pipe up.

But eventually, he pulls the blindfold from my eyes, meeting them with his own hard stare, that smirk present.

"Keep going," he begs, twitching under me as he gives my ass a tight squeeze and I almost yelp. "Fuck..."

And with that, his hand movements get more ragged, more aggressive, and being able to see his face and how turned on he is has me right there, that tightening in my gut forming.

"I...I'm gonna..." I breathe, exhausted.

"That's not asking," he groans, and I'm too far now to care about whether or not I'm begging.

"Can I...can I come?" I manage, and he chuckles lightly at this, lips revealing his white teeth as I blue and avoid his gaze. "Please..."

"Go ahead," he agrees on a whisper, and before I can count to ten, I'm lying over him in a heap, breathing heavily on his chest after he follows my lead and hits his peak.

He's right....we do finish together a lot.

After a moment of silence he smacks my ass playfully, asking me to get off of him, and then I roll over onto the other side of the bed, breathing heavily.

"That was hot," he sighs. "Let's do that again."

"I need a beak for a second," I mumble. "Maybe that shower first."

"Shower it is," he grins, and then he's up on his feet, grabbing me and tugging me out of bed with him.

He ditches the glove and leaves it on the bed for later, then helps me stand. He tosses me over his shoulder with a yelp from me and no warning, though, and that kicks the last of that sexual tension.

I laugh over his shoulder, happy to finally get to feel them again. "Slow down, Stark!"


	69. Chapter 69

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be the last of the daily updates for a little bit becauseeeeeee WE HAVE PHOTOS OF RESCUE!!! Already starting on making the suit, so that's gonna take half my time again! Also bonus points to whoever picks up on the couple of hints at my favorite book that I accidentally used in here.

His jaw scratches my chin as he nuzzles there, his hair soft on my cheek. It smells like Christmas and it's chilly, aside from where he's attached to me. He shifts in the bed and then heaves a sigh as he kisses my neck lightly and my fingers run through his brown locks as I bite my lip and sigh.

"So I was thinking..." he murmurs, voice deep and raspy and worn from the day.

"Uh oh..." I can't help but tease, which makes him chuckle.

God, I love that sound. And I love this. This quietness. This stillness. Him laying cuddled into my side, just like before. I'm content, and my chest is fuzzy with warmth...a different kind, not his body heat. Happiness. Happiness and relaxation. Everything is so much better, we're so much happier now...

"You're happy, right?"

"Yeah," I agree easily.

"And you're okay with how things are going?"

My fingers are playing with his hair now, subconscious as I try to stay awake. "Yes, why are you so worried?"

"Well," he sighs, "there's something I wanted to ask you and I wanted to wait until New Year's Eve, but-"

"Robert," I whisper on a breath, and somehow I know what's coming. "Bobby, what are you..."

"Rach," he starts, but he's...shaking my side? "Rachel."

"What?" I ask, but I realize it's coming out as more of a groan, and that's when I realize it.

I'm dreaming. It's still October, still in Pennsylvania. I fell asleep cuddling Robert's side after our shower, and now I'm stuck in dreamland. Sort of.

He's gently shaking me to wake me up, looking worried when I do blink my eyes open to soft light coming through the windows. 

"Hey," he smirks, one eye still closed and his voice tired. "You were talking in your sleep again...bad dream?"

So I sigh, closing my eyes again and respositioning myself against him. "No, good one..." I whisper. "Really good one."

"Mmm," he hums with a sleepy laugh. "That kind of dream, huh? Guess that's why you kept repeating my name...Tony did a number on you, didn't he?"

"Don't get cocky," I scold, letting my hand run over his chest just to feel him.

"Too late." His hand finds my shoulder and he starts drawing lazy circles. "What did you dream about, then?"

My lips can't help but twitch, but I don't even know. I never got to the part of him asking whatever it was he wanted to ask. Was he...was my subconscious trying to tell me I want a future with him? After all that talk about not wanting marriage because of my parents, and the potential child issue...

"You," I finally whisper lazily. 

"Hmmm, what about me?" he muses.

"I..." I start, blushing when I realize this is going to sound stupid...so I lie instead. "Something like this. You were just hanging out with me and making me happy."

"Did you laugh?" he asks next. "If you laughed then I approve. I love your laugh..."

"And I love you," I reply softly. "God, it's so weird saying that."

"We say that all the time," he chuckles, confused. "Do I say it too much?"

"Not at all," I promise. "I love hearing it."

"Yeah?" he asks, shifting and finally making me wake up a little bit.

But then he rolls over in bed, scooping me up in his arms and making me squeak in surprise.

"Then I love you," he murmurs, kissing my cheek, and I giggle. "I love you," he repeats, placing another kiss on the corner of my mouth. "I love you..."

It's a whisper as he meets my lips in a passionate kiss and I smile against him as his strong hand runs up and down my back. It isn't sexual, though, it's just a comfortable awakening after an eventful night.

"Mmm," I laugh against him, grinning as he snorts out a laugh of his own and my arms wrap around his neck. "Say it again."

"I love you," he speaks against my kiss.

"That's good," I grin with another quick kiss to his sweet lips before I pull away and lay my head back to look at him and brush his hair back. "Because I love you too."

"You said that already," he smirks, showing his teeth, and I bite my tongue as I smile back.

"Did I?" I ask innocently, but my focus is elsewhere.

It's on his eyes, shining with life now that he's awake. On the salt and pepper coloring of his stubble on his chin, and the gray tinges at his temple that he hasn't dyed since I told him I like his natural coloring. On his nose, how it scrunches up at the bridge and meets his laugh lines on his cheeks when he smiles like this.

"You're staring, Miss Thomas," he teases after a moment. 

"Sorry...I'm just...taking mental pictures for later," I admit.

"Afraid you're gonna forget what I look like?" he laughs. "We're gonna see each other more, remember?"

I sigh, dropping my hand. "I know...but I, well I got some news..."

"And..."

"And...do you want the good news or the bad news?"

"Ah, one of those situations," he answers, brushing the hair from my face to show he's still calm and caring and not upset at all. "Good first, hit me."

"My album drops in February, after my birthday," I announce, and he raises both eyebrows, impressed.

"And that's bad because..."

"That's bad because I'll have to be in the studio, all day, every day...until after the holidays. Which means no vacation..." I tell him slowly, hating every second of it. "I'm so sorry, baby...but I haven't signed the contract yet, I can tell them no, I can-"

"Rachel," he hushes me with a finger to my lips. "I understand what this life is like, remember? Shit happens. It was just an excuse to have more time like this together, but your career...your career is more important than anything else."

"Devin said she'll try to work out a few days," I speak against his finger, not caring that he's keeping it settled there. "So maybe we can go somewhere local, save Jamaica for another time."

"Is that the bad news?" he asks, and I nod. 

"But...wait, there was more good news," I giggle stupidly, squirming under him.

"Uh, so tell me, come on!" he begs, acting like an excited kid, and I toss my head back against the pillow.

"I'm playing Times Square on New Year's Eve!" I full on yell, startling him, yet amusing him, because we both burst out in laughter and when I look back, his mouth is wide open in a deep laugh.

"You're playing Times Square?" he repeats, and I state it for a third time with an excited nod.

"I'm playing Times Square," I whisper. 

"What'd I tell ya?" he grins. "Big time celebrity already..."

"No, that's you," I reply, still smiling ear to ear as I bop his nose with my index finger.

He tries to bite it instead and I squeal and pull my hand away, laughing harder. "Bobby!"

"Bobby," he mimics, high pitched voice and all, and then kisses my collar bone before shooting me puppy dog eyes again. "Hey Rach?"

"Hey what?" I ask, catching my breath.

"You're happy, right?"

His words chill me suddenly; they're exactly the same as the dream. But this is different. This isn't the holidays, this isn't the same room, the same bed... Breathe, Rachel, it's just coincidence. There's no way he could've known what you were dreaming about.

"Yeah," I confirm. "Yes, I'm very, very happy..."

"Really?" he asks as though he's not convinced, and I nod.

"Really," I whisper. "I missed you so much, Robert John..."

"Full names," he observes. "This must be serious."

"It is," I smirk, heart feeling as full as it did in my dream. "I've never felt more alive than I have this past week... I want to do everything on Earth with you."

"And you will," he agrees. "We have all the time in the world..."

And it's stuff like this that I know I'm going to miss. Stuff like this that I think about the rest of the weekend, even through dinner with my old co workers on Sunday, who came through my line while Robert was visiting on my last day.

"You have to stick out the bottom lip a little bit. Just a little bit," Robert told me, then put his lips into a duck face, pouting. "Like that."

My eyes widely stared at the photo I was signing as I shook my head, then smiled up at the person who thanked me. "You are something else."

"It's called artistic posing," he countered, fidgeting with a marker in his hand after he added his autograph to the girl's photo. 

"You just made that up," I called him out, and he grinned, caught. "That's not even a real term! I'm not doing that."

"It is, I swear," he lied, exaggerating the last word for effect.

"Oh, just like you swear you don't use hair dye?" 

"You said you liked it!" he gasped, patting his head and that's when Jack and May approached.

"Oh my God!" I yelped, standing immediately to give them both hugs. "How are you guys?!"

May was already close to tears seeing me; we were the closest at the office. Jack stood by, happy to see me, but not as emotional. He never was, really, so it wasn't offending.

"How are we?" she asked. "How are you?!"

"I'm okay," I stated with a smile still on my face and she raised an eyebrow. 

"Just okay?! You're a big time singer, what do you mean just okay?!" Jack celebrated, and I sighed, feeling emotional as well.

"I'm great," I corrected. "Really, I'm so, so happy..."

"You look happy," May agreed. "We've been following all of the crazy paparazzi photos..."

"Really?!" I asked, stunned. "I figured you would've been mad at me for leaving, honestly..."

"Not at all," Jack disagreed.

I smiled back, genuine, then turned toward Devin, who was giving me a look that screamed 'wrap it up'. "I, uh...I'm being yelled at, but are you guys busy tonight? We can have dinner?"

"I'm in," May agreed. 

"Good," I smiled, and Jack nodded as well before I turned back to Robert at the table, who was play flirting with the next girl in line, striking up a conversation while they waited for me. "Bobby, we're sticking around here till tomorrow, right?"

"Yup!" he confirmed with a soft smile, and I returned it before turning back to May's smug grin.

"Bobby, huh?" she teased, and the blush was evident on my cheeks. "I can't believe how close you two are. It's so odd."

"We're...we're in a good place right now," I agreed. "Weird, I know... Who would've thought?"

"I'll be honest, I didn't believe it the day you told us," Jack admitted.

"Yeah," I laughed. "It was out of left field. But he's...God, we just hit it off, and I still can't explain it outside of luck, but it happened, and we're here, and..."

"You didn't split up like the news said, did you?" May had to ask, making me sigh.

"We...weren't talking. It was a personal matter, something I can't disclose, and I was so busy with recording and he with filming this new movie, and..."

"He's filming again?"

"He is," I nodded. "He's supposed to be there now, but we're trying to fix things and I think we really needed this time together...plus, it's only a small part so they let him off set for a couple days."

"Everything's okay now?" Jack asked.

"It is. We talked, we caught up...things are good. Things are better than ever."

May sighed, glancing at Robert at the table, who then moved on to talking with Devin. "Thinking of settling down, are we?" she teased.

My blush deepened at that, remembering the dream from earlier. "No, no, not yet...we're doing good but it's too soon for that," I tried to insist, even if part of me is suddenly hopeful, imagination fueled by my dream.

But then they got used to him, and I got to visit with my friends as we treated them to a nice dinner downtown after the convention wrapped. I can't help but sneak a peek at the headlines, too, wondering what they've been once word got around about Robert being with me.

Rachel Thomas Brings Iron Man to Comic Con, one reads. RaRo Stronger Than Ever? another one reads, and I smirk as I read the captions of the photos of us laughing behind the autograph table.

_Thomas (left) brought out the big guns - literally - while signing autographs, having boyfriend Downey Jr (right) join her in Monroeville this weekend. Thomas is a native to the area, who's career is just budding. Despite the shake up in the media recently, the two seemed quite cozy, enjoying a laugh with fans on Friday._

__

__

And now...well, now we're back in California, Aero included, a few days to spare while Devin works out the kinks in the contracts and sends everything I've signed in. Robert and I prepped on how we're going to handle things, being away and all... There's an agreement to have date night at least twice a week when we are in the same state, and regular texts and phone calls, unless we absolutely can't get to the phone. He's cut back on smoking...not quit, but cut back, just like he promised. And for the week that I'm there doing some writing, he's been to an NA meeting and therapy, deciding to see a therapist to keep himself in check.

"I think it's a great idea," I tell him one day as I walk with him on set of Jon's film, the first time I've visited. "It'll keep you in check when I can't," I tease.

"Am I that hard to handle?" he laughs, taking a sip from his coffee cup with his free hand, the other locked with mine; it's become normal now, the PDA couple always out together.

"Sometimes you get a little...rambunctious," I admit.

"Name one time!" he demands, and I roll my eyes.

"The time you were supposed to be on bed rest and worsened your sprain," I offer.

He raises and eyebrow and shakes his head. "That the best you got? I was tired of laying on my ass!"

"Okay..." I think out loud. "The time you bought me a house. Or when you got snippy with the cameras after that meeting while we were separated. Um...the time you moved all of your furniture to Atlanta and back, or when you-"

"Okay, okay, fine," he grumbles. "You win this round."

I'm not proud of myself, though. I didn't say it to make him feel bad. I just wanted to point out that yes, the therapist seems to be helping, and I'm glad he has that outlet for when we have to be apart. Plus, maybe it'll help him keep on track with staying in touch with me, so we don't fall into a no talking pattern like the last few times.

"I just like you better when you're happy," I promise, squeezing his hand as he walks us to his set chair; he isn't filming today, just watching. "I mean, I always like you, but you're more focused when you're happy."

"Yeah, yeah..." he sighs. "You know...you could come, sometime. If you'd want to..."

As I sit in the chair next to his and fold my hands over my knees, waiting for the shoot to start, he glances over, hope obvious on his eyes.

"Me?" I ask dumbly. "Why?"

"Well," he starts, "with everything that happened...I've told the guy most of it, but maybe if we were both there, we could dig a little deeper into what we're feeling as a couple, and-"

"You want to turn this into couple's therapy?" I ask, confused and a little hurt. "I thought we were doing great."

"We are!" he rushes to comfort, hand on my knee as he sets down his now empty Starbucks cup on the floor by the leg of the chair. "I thought you're the one who's pushing this therapy thing, now you're offended?"

"I'm not offended, I just...I don't know, I didn't appreciate it much in rehab..." I admit. "I know you're used to it, you've accepted it, but I...I still don't like associating my life now with my life then."

It's the truth. While Robert is still so comfortable talking about his addictions and his anger issues in the past, I'm not. No one really knows. They kind of know about Charlie, or at least the surface. But none of the stuff about the Vicodin has hit the headlines yet, and I've kind of hidden it in my memory. It was the easiest way for me to move past it and be happy. But...maybe this is like our fight. We can forgive and move on, but we can't just lock it away like it never happened. Learn from it.

"If you come with me, we can help get you to the same place as me with that," he soothes. "Even if you don't talk, just come to listen. So you can see what I'm doing. Please?"

So I sigh with a slight groan, tucking my hands into my jacket; despite being in California, I'm still feeling fall and cold and ready for an east coast summer again already.

"Okay," I agree finally. "Okay, but I'm leaving in two days for Nashville, so it has to be after that."

"That's fine," he agrees. "By the way, I booked us a weekend in Napa just before Christmas. Dev sent me your schedule and got you a couple extra days."

"They approved?!" I ask excitedly. And then the location hits. "Wait, Napa?! Really?!"

"You said local, in the country, right? That way we can still see your family, and if you're up for it, we could swing by mine before you got o New York..." he thinks out loud.

Did he just say 'you'? Is he not spending New Year's with me?

"You're not coming to New York?" I ask, a little depressed over that.

"Of course I will, if you want me," he rushes to agree as Jon walks on the set with a couple camera guys, signaling they'll be starting soon. 

"Want you?" I tease, tugging off his sunglasses that he always forgets to take off indoors and hooking them on his shirt. "You do know that this is the most romantic holiday to me right?"

"Valentine's Day would be upset," he counters and I roll my eyes.

"Valentine's Day is a fake holiday and it only exists to make Hallmark money," I argue.

"Wow," he states dramatically, with a slight whip to his head. "You've never had a nice date on Valentine's Day, have you?"

I inhale sharply, eyes on him. "Last year, Aero and I watched Anchorman on my mother's couch while she made us dinner. Charlie was...well, Charlie was off doing God knows what with God knows who."

There's a ring of a bell on set, probably summoning the crew to get ready for the shot, but he doesn't pay attention. Instead, his hand squeezes my knee and he holds a straight face, clean shaven again now that we're back in California.

"You think he was cheating on you?" he asks, and honestly...I guess I never thought about it before.

"It wouldn't surprise me," I settle on, and he fakes a smile as I turn my head toward the set.

But he's quickly making me feel better, just like he always does, and bless him for that.

"Well, I can't wait to surprise you for Valentine's Day this year, then, too. New Year's and Valentine's Day...you'll see. They can be fun."


	70. Chapter 70

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sooooo much fluff. And a little Halloween spirit that just happened to line up nicely with the actual calendar, so that's fun. Also, I'm sorry I haven't updated, but if you haven't heard the news, we've been a little scattered in Pitt this weekend... But I just got really good news about something important and I can't tell any of you guys about it YET but hopefully at some point, if my guess is right, I'll be able to post about it. :) Yeah that was super vague... And uh, if you haven't gone to ducklingfanproject.com and participated, you might want to think about doing that.... ;)

"And you're sure you don't mind skipping the party?" I call from the bathroom after putting my makeup on. 

The two of us were invited to a Halloween party...Rob Lowe's, to be exact...and Robert's been talking about it the last few days. He wants to be a cat, face paint and all, and I would honestly love to see that. Except I told him I couldn't go last minute when my cousin called to see if I could take her five year old and seven year old trick or treating with their friend. Something about a last minute business meeting and my aunt and uncle are currently out of the country on a cruise, and since we're in Malibu right now...I had to agree. I insisted he go anyway, but he canceled to stay with me.

"Yeah," he calls back. "I'll just have to be a cat another time."

"You'll make a very pretty cat next time, honey, I promise" I tease, wiping off my hands and returning to the bedroom just to find him on his hands and knees, ass in the air as he fishes under the bed for something. "What in the hell is happening here?"

"Aero hit his mouse under the bed so I'm getting it for him," he grunts out, reaching further under and eventually pulling it out and tossing it into the hall for the cat to chase.

"You do know you're not actually a cat, right?" I ask, suddenly wary of his answer, but he smirks and pushes himself back onto his knees before using the bed to pull himself up.

"I'm aware, it's very unfortunate," he answers, kissing my cheek as he goes to pass me and make for the bathroom next. "I can't help it, I just like playing with your pussy."

It's a whisper in my ear and it instantly has my face heating up red as I gasp and raise my brow at him. "Robert!"

He only giggles as he takes his turn making himself look decent after the day we spent being lazy around the house.

Shortly after, we're making our way to my aunt's house in the gated community. My cousin lives in the same place, just down the road, so we know where to go. Trick or treating should be easy enough here; the kids can roam around safely, and Robert's not going to stick out. 

And that's exactly how it is. Comfortable, easy. Robert's flashing smiles at people who recognize him, despite the ball cap and sunglasses he's tossed on. He's got a nicely fitting sweater on over a t shirt and lounge pants...I've only stuck to sunglasses and a hoodie; it's chilly but I feel like being comfortable today, and with Robert's style, that's easy.

"So Ashley probably won't recognize you," I tell him while opening the gate to their house. "She's only five. Danny probably won't either, but her friend's a boy, and you know how boys are with their superheros..."

"Sounds like you're afraid of introducing me," he muses.

"That's not it," I insist.

But it kind of is. Like the adults...it's fine. But I don't want them getting attached to him just in case, and...yeah. But I can't admit that.

"Then what is it?" he smirks when I open the front door.

"You know how kids get," I sigh. "Just...go with it, okay?"

And then I open the door and call into the house, and out comes their mother, grabbing her keys on the way. 

"Hey Rach," she huffs. "I'm so sorry, I'm running late, but I shouldn't be out too long. They girls are just getting into their dresses, they wanted to be Princesses this year, but Marco is going as Superman so it doesn't make sense, but you know...kids are gonna be kids..." she rushes.

And then she notices Robert.

"Holy shit you brought him," she breathes and I can't help but laugh; it's funny seeing people I know react this way.

"Is that okay?" I ask with a smile. "He refused to go to his party without me, so..."

Robert grins at her as he chews his gum until she nods. 

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, thanks for helping out," she finally answers, and then she holds a hand out. "It's good to see you again..."

"You as well," he greets, shaking it.

I guess they met at the wedding, that would make sense considering her cousin was the bride, but it still seems unreal to her I suppose. Hell, it's still unreal to me. Seeing him here, grinning at her, not bothered by me because he's here with me.

And before long we're greeting the kids in their room, and Ashley gives me a big hug before running back to Danny who's playing with her stuffed cat with a boy in a Superman costume.

"You guys ready to go?" I ask, standing back up from kneeling for her hug. "Trick or treating starts in ten minutes."

"Yeah," Danny answers without looking up. "I just gotta put mama cat in her house with the babies."

"Okay, well tuck them in and then get your candy buckets and we'll go, okay?" I ask in my best little kid voice and she nods and starts packing up.

I sigh, waiting for them to pack up, and that's when Robert wraps his arm around me and smiles, waiting patiently. I tug my lips up in return, softly and content, the mimic him and let my hand fall over his hip, sliding into the back pocket of his pants. He smirks on instinct, and it kills my heart, but we don't say anything else, because that's when Superman on the bed realizes I'm with someone.

"Hey, you're Iron Man!" he yells, hopping off and running over to us.

So Robert lets me go and sinks to the floor, crouching down to his level. "And you're Superman, pleased to meet you and thank you for your service to this fine country."

"How come you don't have your suit?" Marco asks and Robert, being Robert, is quick to answer.

"It's my day off, but you're keeping us safe tonight, right?"

"Are you coming with us?!" he asks, wide eyed, and I laugh. 

"Yes, now come on guys, get your stuff!" I shoo, waving my hand.

They scatter, going to grab their candy buckets, but Danny's stopping in front of me first, looking up with big blue eyes just like her mom's.

"Is Iron Man your boyfriend?" she squeaks and I blush but nod.

"He is," I confirm, patting her head. "Do you wanna say hi?"

She nods, so he smiles and turns to her, still crouched down.

"Hi..." she whispers and he folds his hands over his knees.

"Cinderella, right?" he guesses, making her smile sheepishly, tucking her head into her arm as she shyly watches him. "I thought so. I'm thrilled to escort you tonight, princess."

She giggles and bites her lip and it makes me melt. He's so good with kids, and I just...maybe I should get a second opinion. I should have Devin get me an appointment somewhere good, just to see...for future reference, you know? Maybe...

"Do you have any kids coming?" she asks him and I see him press his lips together for a second, amused, but my heart's just plummeting.

I know, I know...kids say the darnedest things, right? But she basically just read my mind and I hope to God that Robert doesn't expect me to answer because my throat's dry and my breath has caught in my lungs.

"No," he answers, slightly sad by the sounds of it. "I don't have any, but that just means I can spend more time with you tonight."

"Oh," she frowns, but it's quickly replaced by that smile again. "You should get some for next time."

"Oh...kay..." I finally interject, guiding her by her shoulders to the hall. "Go get your bucket, let's go."

The blush on my cheeks is fueled further when Robert licks his lips and stands, still amused. I can't even comment right now, so I give him the look that says 'don't start' and follow them downstairs.

And it isn't brought up again until we're half way through trick or treating. He's been chatty with the neighbors, despite trying to stay incognito, but they don't keep him for long. There's no big name stars out tonight, so that kind of hurts us...fewer distractions, you know? But luckily most people just say a quick hello before letting him go. But when we finally get on a routine of letting the kids walk up to the houses on their own without me, he comments again.

"You're great with them," he tells me, grabbing my hand as we walk, the girls running ahead with their friend.

I blush, shaking my head under the ball cap. "I try but I still feel awkward sometimes. They're just at this age where they can finally hold a conversation that makes sense so it's easier than it used to be for me."

"You were fine with the kids at the convention," he reminds me. "Doesn't seem awkward at all."

"Still feels a little off sometimes," I say with a fake smile.

But that's quickly replaced with a panicked stare at the ground as I nearly stumble over his response.

"You're going to be an outstanding mother one day."

"I...I uh," I stammer, but then I hear Danny yelling, and I act on instinct, dropping the conversation as I hurry ahead to catch up. "Danny, wait for your sister!"

The rest of the night is him asking me about my travel plans in the next couple of days; I'll be heading back to Nashville, starting to record after a few initial meetings with my band and the head of the label. Lenon, I think his name is. Weird? Weird. Guess his parents really wanted him to be in the music business when he was born....

Whatever, never mind my ranting. The rest of the night goes smoothly, and their mother thanks me when she gets back to her children, who are finally asleep after a sugar rush and a bed time story, and then we're headed back to my place. Devin's out, and I feel like relaxing, so I take for the couch while Robert fixes us drinks.

"I'm telling you," he insists as he hands me my wine glass and sits himself down on the floor, back against the chair facing me. "You don't see it, but you put a smile on their face without trying. Your cousins, your fans..."

"I learn from the best," I tease, sipping at my glass, my feet tucked into the couch cushions and my knees up. "I've been watching you for years."

"We make a good team," he smirks, pulling some of Aero's fur off of his designer yoga pants.

Then he readjusts his pendant around his neck and I watch, eyes soft as I try to read him.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours, sir?" I muse quietly with my lips slightly tugged up.

"Uh," he stammers, catching my gaze. "Well I was thinking about how much fur is woven into my clothes and not on your cat, but now I'm more intrigued by why you're calling me sir and why the hell it's kind of turning me on."

"Robert!" I sigh, and he chuckles.

"I don't know," he answers sincerely. "I just thought it was cute, you and them tonight. I mean, bed time stories and all? Wish my dad would've gone that far for me as a kid."

"You won't be your dad, if that's what you're thinking," I'm quick to promise, softer again as I swirl my drink around in my cup. "Don't worry."

"Thanks..." he sighs.

"But your kids are gonna be crazy as hell if they're anything like their dad," I joke.

"Yeah," he laughs out nervously, eyes wide as he takes a breath and reaches for his water to sip at.

He scratches the back of his head as he diverts his gaze and he suddenly has me worried.

"What else is going on?" I press. "Besides your weird obsession with wanting me to know I'm a good cousin."

"Nothing," he lies; I can tell.

"For an actor, you really suck at lying," I smirk. "Come on, fess up, Downey."

"Rach, not tonight," he requests, but he looks dejected, so I carefully get up off the couch and set my glass down before taking the chair he's rested against instead.

My fingers graze through his hair as he leans his head back between my legs and looks up at me with those dark puppy dog eyes that always get to me. He sighs, showing a slight, content smile, and then lets it out, and it makes my heart beat faster with each word.

"Seeing you with the fans last week and then with the kids today just makes me wonder if I'll ever have that," he admits. "I'm forty eight, I'm not really young enough anymore..."

"Have what? Kids?" I ask gently, stroking his forehead with a smile even though it hurts, because I can't promise him something I can't give him, and if that's what he wants...we won't work; of course, right when I'm happy, right? "You will. You'll find someone you love who won't care how old you are," I chuckle in teasing, "but they'll be that person who gives you everything you've ever wanted in life, including a family to come home to."

God, does it sting. But I'm weirdly calm. Weirdly calm as I touch him, feeling his soft hair and looking down at those doe eyes. Maybe it's just acceptance. I mean, most of my panic was released earlier when he wasn't picking up on it...while we were out trick or treating. Or...maybe I'm just coming to the realization that maybe that's what I want, too. Just not...now. Not this soon, even if he is RDJ...

"Not just kids," he answers, eyes now closed as I massage his head. "A family. With...well, when I picture it, a wife who's patient and can put up with my bullshit...who could handle those crazy kids you say I'll have."

"You'll have all of that," I promise in just a whisper. "Someone will come along and change your life in all the right ways."

My stomach succumbs to the butterflies as they attack, and my breath catches. He's calm and serious and waiting to figure out what to say. But my throat hurts, my face tight and my eyes threatening tears. Why did this have to happen tonight? Right before I leave, right when we were moving forward. We talked about this, he knew... And even if he said before he didn't care if we didn't have kids someday, even if my dreams are trying to convince me otherwise...I know it's what he really wants. And we both know it might not be an option with all of my fucked up medical history.

So I lean down, placing a small, soft kiss on his lips, delicate and emotional as I try my best to calm down my racing heart.

And that's when he opens his eyes again, staring back at me as he tries to read me. "What if they already have?"

"Robert..." I whisper when my hand stops moving without my realizing it. 

"Rach, what are we doing here?" he asks, now confident again, and I blink, knowing this is it.

"I guess...I guess we're agreeing that maybe we shouldn't be together anymore..." I say in a hush, my mind numb as I force the words.

But he apparently doesn't agree, and he's pushing his brow together before getting up off the floor and moving to his knees to face me. He settles his hands on my hips, shaking his head.

"No...no. Rach, I'm saying...I'm saying it's you," he gushes.

"What?"

"When I think about that shit, it's you. It's you, and a couple kids, and the cat, and-" he rants, but I take a deep breath and quickly stop this nonsense.

"This is what I meant when I said you get crazy ideas and the therapist might be able to help," I scold, even though my focus is on steadying my breath and trying to make sense of what the fuck is happening. "I told you they said getting pregnant isn't the best idea for me!"

But he squeezes where he holds me, grabbing my attention again. "It's not a crazy idea, just hear me out-"

"Robert," I state, trying to stay calm and collected. "We just got back together and we agreed to take things slow," I remind him. "This isn't slow."

"Let's get married," he blurts out next and he's 100% fucking serious by the looks of his composed face. "Let's get married, have a family, have all of those things we both want."

I can't do anything but stare at him, wide eyed and slightly terrified of the idea. Okay...okay. Don't panic, you can say no. Why do you even want to say no? It hasn't even been six months, that's why. Yeah, it's okay to take time. 

But panic ultimately takes over when he shifts, motioning toward his stance.

"I can...well, I'll have to get you a ring, but I can at least make this sort of official..." he says, and then readjusts so he's only on one knee. "What do ya say?"

But I don't say anything. Instead, I lean forward, past him, and grab my wine glass, quickly downing the rest of what I had in there. Then I take for his water glass, sniffing it before tasting it and exhaling.

"Yup, that's not alcohol..." I mutter.

"It's water..." he answers, watching as I set it back down before turning his eyes back to me. "So..."

"No."

It rolls off my tongue easier than anything else, and I just watch him, blinking. He's probably going to hate me, and I can't read his expression yet...he hasn't hinted at what his reaction is going to be at all.

"But-" he finally starts, like a child, and I focus on my breathing again as I push myself out of the seat grabbing my glass to take to the kitchen.

"You're getting delusional," I state, not accusing, just explaining. "Call your doctor."

"This...this is a perfect example, though," he argues, standing and gesturing between us as he follows. "You get me, you know my patterns and how to handle me."

"So?" I snap, rinsing out the glass and setting it aside before turning back to him, clutching the kitchen counter behind me.

"You said you're happier now than before," he tries to persuade me. "And you love me, and I love you, and we both want kids-"

"Okay, let me stop you right there. We've been dating for six months," I tell him with a hint of attitude. "And you know how I feel about marriage!"

"You said with the right person-"

"Normal people don't even get married after six months."

"We're not normal," he argues.

"You're not normal," I agree. "Okay, and I love you for that, I do, but this...we're not getting married, Robert, God!" I groan, pushing past him again and going toward my room as an escape. "I just rejected Robert Downey Jr's marriage proposal...what the fuck..." I mutter to myself in disbelief on the way down the hall, hand running through my hair.

What the hell is wrong with me? Normally I'd be thrilled. I daydreamed about this, I wondered what this would be like. I never, ever imagined it actually happening. And this...this wasn't how I pictured it at all.

"Rach," he calls after me and I growl, frustrated that he won't let it go. "Rachel, wait."

"Bobby," I finally answer, turning at my door to barricade him out with my hands at both sides of the frame. "I can't marry you. Okay, not right now. I'm happy, I am, but we need to stay happy. I need to know we can do this before we make any big decisions. Hell, we don't even live together yet!"

"I can arrange for that," he offers, but I sigh instead, shaking my head.

"I don't want this to come between us, but you have to know how irrational you're being," I answer gently. "You didn't even really ask, you ever think of why that is?"

"I didn't really have this planned..." he tries to defend, and I turn toward the bathroom, needing a minute. "I was just going on a feeling, and-"

"You and I both know it's not the right time for this."

Than I focus on anything else, something to change the topic. I don't know what to do in these kinds of situations and when I want to not start an argument, you know, that one really rare time I don't get overly angry or upset, I pick something else to complain about instead. Today: the way Devin's stacked the toilet paper on the back of the toilet and not in the cabinet above it, like I like to keep it in.

"I tell her to let me do this every time, and she doesn't listen," I state, mostly to myself as I grab the rolls and start moving them appropriately.

"Rach-"

"Is it really that hard? Like it's the same stack, just on a shelf, not out in the open," I mutter, both hands full as I continue repositioning them.

"Hon, stop," he requests next, hands settled on mine to catch my attention. "I'm sorry."

"What?" My eyes snap up finally, meeting his.

"You're right, this is insensitive movie star that always gets what he wants Robert. I shouldn't have brought it up."

I study him, not sure how to take that. Does that mean he really does want that but is going to wait? Does it mean he doesn't really know if he wants it and was just talking out his ass? I'm confused.

"I'm not mad at you for bringing it up," I start slowly. "I just...can't. Not with everything in the past year. I need to heal myself first before anything else crazy happens or I might snap, not gonna lie."

"I know," he agrees. "Sometimes I forget I handle things differently than everyone else, always have. ...But we're still cool, right? We're not breaking up or anything?"

"No, this wasn't even a fight, it was just a very odd discussion..." I sigh. "Unless you're upset with me, because I get it if you are, and-"

"I'm not upset with you," he smirks and lets my hands go, finally letting me relax a bit. "Just no one tells me no."

"Oh my God..." I groan in fake sarcasm and then make a quick decision to toss one of the rolls at him playfully. "You cocky son of a bitch."

He giggles, twisting his body to dodge the roll, so I toss the other one at him instead, hitting him square on the forehead.

"Oh, you asked for it now," is all he gives me back, voice grave and dramatic, and next I'm dodging the rolls he throws back at me.

And now this means war. So, with narrowed eyes, I stop caring about how they're stacked and toss the ones I've moved into the cabinet at him, then try to regroup and grab the ones he's throwing back at me as they bounce off the floor. Until all is quiet after I've thrown them back out into the room at him and they don't come flying back...that scares me.

"Okay, Downey. I'm coming out unarmed!" I announce, then start tiptoeing into the now empty room, noting the rolls are missing, too, so he's gotta be hiding them somewhere with him. "Drop your weapons!"

But he doesn't answer, so I make the decision to try to sneak into the eerily quiet living space next to the open kitchen. It's a bad one, because as soon as I clear the entry way, I'm hit from behind with the soft toilet paper rolls. I cry out dramatically, then go to star throwing them back, now laughing my ass off once I notice how hard he's grinning.

"You little shit!" I yell, now basically playing dodge ball until he makes his way throw my throws, escaping their path and grabbing me by the waist.

I yelp as his arms capture me and then he tackles me onto the ground, laughing his high pitched, happy laugh as I gasp for breath. Both of us are in hysterics, completely unlike a few minutes ago, and then it's like time freezes as I look up at him hovering over me.

His eyes are crinkled at the edges as he shows his teeth, and they sparkle with life. His hair's a mess and I can feel myself bite my lip as I finally settle down, admiring him.

"You're insane," I repeat on a breath out, stroking his hair back, and he huffs in response.

"So I've heard," he confirms, then leans down and captures my lips in a kiss we both smile into.

It only starts my laughter again, squirming under him as I try to talk in between the sweet kisses he's planting on me.

"Does this mean a truce?" I ask, and he kisses me again and laughs into it.

"Only if you still love me."

"Of course I do," I assure him, and then he gives me space again and lets his eyes dance over my face as he watches me.

"Let's just do this next time," he suggests as I continue playing with his hair.

"What?" I ask with my own grin. "Make a mess of the house the next time you decide to fake propose to me?"

"No-"

"How often is that going to happen, exactly?"

"-the next time I say something stupid. Exercise seems like a good way to reset."

"Oh yeah?" I laugh, and that sets off is laughter again.

"Yeah. Maybe we can find a different physical activity though..." he muses, leaning in to give my neck a nip and I toss my head back with the smile still on my face.

"Oh, what'd you have in mind?" I tease, and he grumbles something into my neck, hands running up my sides, but it doesn't go much further when we're interrupted by Devin's confused as hell voice.

"What the fuck..." she starts, setting down her keys and glancing around the room.

I lean my head back and grin up at her, watching as she takes in the toilet paper lying all over the floor and us, smack in the middle of the living room in a slightly compromising situation.

"Celebrating not getting engaged," he announces, and she just blinks, processing.

"Yeah, I'm not drunk enough for this..." she mumbles, then starts heading to her room on the other side of the house. "Just...clean up after you guys deflower my living room!" she yells over her shoulder, which makes Robert exhale in laughter against me, his head now tucked into my shoulder as he giggles.

I chuckle, lifting his head back up with both hands once she disappears completely, now feeling relaxed again and more content than before.

"When I get used to this kind of life and we've fixed everything and you have a ring and ask me the right way...I'll say yes," I whisper, and he smirks, silently agreeing. "Now how about we go exercise?" I tease.

"Devin'll be pissed if we don't clean this up," he comments.

"I'll clean up afterwards."


	71. Chapter 71

Should I speed through the next few months, catch you up on things? Maybe not speed through all of it, but...how about some time jumps? I don't know, it's just...beginning to get repetitive, you know? The recording, the meetings, the traveling. Weird for me to say; this wasn't how my life was before. But now I've been doing this for...well, almost a year now, really. Since the song was released, since my name started getting mixed in with Sting's and Robert's.

It's become...normal. Even being with Robert has become normal. The big houses, the fancy hotels, the nice cars, the paparazzi, granted more so when I'm with him, and the absolutely outrageous numbers in my bank account... I never thought I'd adjust to it, but I think I'm staring to. And I'm happy. I have a happy relationship, finally, despite the rocky few months there, a great life at home with Devin, a career taking off and letting my work be something I love...

Which leads me to what's going on.

It wasn't hard to get into the swing of things. Writing, practicing, recording... Especially with Dave joining me. We've kept in touch and Devin said he was thrilled to take up the offer. Other than that, the rest of the band is up to the label, or so the contracts say. But everyone seemed to have a skilled background when we had our first meeting with the head of the label.

Randall. Randall is his name. Weird name for a label head, right? Not even a hipster or like what you'd imagine. Older guy. Not too old, a few years younger than Robert maybe. He wants to push me toward an alternative sound, somewhere between acoustic and rock, which is fine by me. It gives me a bass beat, not just the drums, and a better tempo to set my songs to so the bigger half aren't as depressing. Thankfully, he's fine with me still writing my own lyrics.

"So I'll let you take these so you can read over their professional experience," he tells me, sliding me the information on the people we're using as my new band members, outside of Dave. "You're welcome to use the studio any time, just give us a heads up. We'll start recording in a couple weeks, once you have some material down. I trust you have some things ready to rehearse?"

Taking a deep breath in and trying not to panic, I nod, forcing a smile; this whole thing has been weird. There's no sign of the team I worked with for the EP, only a couple sound mixers and Randall. Devin's working from the hotel, worried about security for us now that Robert's team isn't with us, so she's conducting interviews. This all makes sense, I guess. New level of work, so things are changing...right?

"Get me something in two weeks, single worthy. We'll push it before the holidays," he orders, and I nod, despite hating being under pressure.

"Yeah...yeah, I can do that."

"Up beat."

"Okay..."

"Do you need someone to transpose your music?"

"No," I deny, shaking my head as I remember being in the high school band. "No, I know how to write it."

"Good," he smiles. "Glad to have you on board."

"Yeah, thank you for giving me this opportunity," I compliment. "Sincerely...this is all I've ever wanted."

"I'm excited to make that happen for you," he agrees. "We'll make sure you see lights like you've never seen before."

But that just makes me laugh, staring down at the papers in my hand as I entertain that. "Not sure if my boyfriend is going to appreciate me doing as well as him," I joke. "He's got this quirk about-"

"Oh, that's still a serious thing?" he interrupts after standing to dismiss me, and I frown, tilting my head in confusion. "You and Downey?"

"Um..." I clear my throat. "Yeah, we're...still dating..."

"Wasn't sure, after the tabloids," he tells me, but something seems off. "He in town?"

"No. He's filming in Los Angeles right now."

Either way, he gives me another smile and opens the office door, giving me the signal to stand and follow. "Keep in touch with updates, and I'll set up a meeting in a couple weeks."

So that's...fun. He seems harmless, just nosy. That's okay, I have to get used to it. I'll always be second to Robert. And that's fine, I'm not trying to steal his spotlight or anything. But apparently I'm not the only one who picks up on the weird tone Randall has, because Dave mentions something in rehearsals a week or so later.

"You think this is good enough to release?" I sigh, grabbing a sip of water from my bottle as we take a break in the studio. "I feel like it's missing something."

"Maybe you're just missing your muse," Dave teases, wiping sweat from his forehead with a towel.

I smirk, laughing it off. "Things are...better," I give him. "We talk every night, actually."

"His idea or yours?"

"Both," I answer with a deep breath. "Among other things. He's going through some stuff, I'm adjusting to this..."

"What, like a mid life crisis?" he quips and I shove him lightly, fake gasping dramatically.

"David!" I scowl and he laughs. "Not funny."

"You know I'm kidding," he tries to follow up. "But the man is old, come on."

"He's...experienced," I counter with another smirk.

And he picks up on that right away, making me blush as I bite my lip, thinking about that last couple of days in LA before we came to Nashville.

"Experienced, huh?" he grins. "Don't let Randy catch you saying that, he might get excited."

"What does that mean?" I chuckle, noting I have a new message.

TS: I'm just saying, it would make no sense to be a hamster sized rhino. A rhino sized hamster would be fun to cuddle.

Anyway, so what are you wearing? ;)

I shake my head, amused by his boyish banter over things that don't matter in the slightest. It's nice, being able to chat about something other than work. None of it is anything that is of any importance, but we've been saving work for the phone calls, fun for the texts.

R: show me yours i'll show you mine

It's a tease, but that's okay. Both of our phones are on lock down even if I wanted to send anything inappropriate...but we don't really do that. I mean, it hasn't really come up. Should I...?

"Dunno," Dave shrugs, picking his sticks back up. "I feel like he's got a thing for you."

"What, like that's why we're even signed on?" I ask.

"You," he corrects, "not we're. And maybe. Bet it's harmless, haven't spent much time with the guy since I'm just your backup. But we all know how you like your men," he jabs."

"I already have my man!" I counter, jaw dropping at his assertiveness, but playfully.

"Then text him or call him or do whatever you gotta do to get some energy and let's kill this thing," he pushes.

And that's when I feel my phone buzz so I go back to the messages and look at his reply, and oh...is it a reply... 

"Unless he's already giving you a piece of his mind," Dave guesses when my face lights up red. "Let's keep it PG in here, please!"

"It is PG..." I grumble, though I'm pretty sure I'm redder than I've ever been while I make sure to lock my phone for real, so no one can stumble upon the photo he took of himself in hi bathroom mirror...butt ass naked.

Later I'll send him something back...maybe...should I? God, I keep asking myself that. I don't know why I'm so embarrassed but...it kind of makes me wonder what he's thinking about. What he's doing while I'm not there... Does he do that? He has to, he's a guy, but...

My thoughts are destroyed the rest of the week until I finally have a last rehearsal before a day off on Friday. It's a late day, playing a few things for the crew that's going to mix and correct the tracks to make the final one for Randy. We're recording it for real next week, but for now, we've revamped Make Me, one of the ones I wrote while on tour, but haven't really played outside of here before. Dave and the bass player gave some opinions, and then we spent the night messing with it to try to see which way we liked its sound more, and I guess we lost track of time. I'm starving, it's almost nine, and I just want to take a hot shower and fall into my bed with some tea for my vocal chords. 

But when I step into the room at the hotel, I let out a loud gasp. There's roses...white, like he knows I love...standing in dozens. They line the walkway into the suit and I slowly make my way through them, stunned. There's twelve...twelve, six on each side, resting delicately in vases on the floor.

"What in the hell..." I breathe, setting down my bag on the table. "Downey, you son of a-"

"Ah, is that any way to thank your handsome, loving boyfriend?" I hear, and when I enter the main space, there he is, smirk and all, holding yet another dozen roses. 

"What are you doing here?!" I ask, eyes wide as I accept them. "Robert..."

"Well..." he starts. "First, I just thought I'd visit...it's been a couple weeks, and I don't know...texting and calling has been good, but I'm getting antsy and wanted to see you."

I tilt my head, sighing.

"Second," he continues. "It occurred to me that I missed our six month anniversary, but I've known this beautiful, special woman in my life now for a year, and I want to make sure she knows how lucky I am to have gotten that chance to meet her. So..."

"So you bought me a flower shop?" I tease, but looking at him with care.

"So I bought you twelve dozen roses..." he corrects. "One for every month I've known you...and a thirteenth one for the month ahead for luck. For you," he offers, holding them out.

"Bobby..." I whisper, accepting them with a smile. 

"A year ago I was dreading having to sing for a fan," he admits. "I was pretty introverted, a little grumpy..."

"A little?" I smirk.

He chuckles lightly, his eyes crinkling behind his dark frames he's wearing tonight. "Turns out it was the best decision I've made in a while."

I hold my smile, sighing as I smell the flowers he's given me and let my shoulders relax. But then I set them down on the desk nearby, wanting to be able to run my hands up his suit. 

"You're all dressed up," I comment, and he watches as my hands trace the folds of his jacket until they reach his shoulders. 

"I know it's late, and you probably already ate, but I thought I'd take you to dinner...somewhere nice, if you're up for it..."

"I'm always up for a date with my sexy man," I agree, biting my lip as I wrap my arms around his neck and he pulls me against him by my waist.

"Hmm, sexy, huh?" he muses, his voice low and raspy and I nod, fingers twirling his hair at the base of his neck.

My eyes flicker to his lips as I feel his strong shoulders under my arms, his toned torso pressing against my chest, his warm hands on my hips... God, did I miss this. And the suit...Lord, can this man wear a suit...

"So sexy," I whisper with a hush and a small giggle before pulling him in to finally kiss him hello, his lips twitching up as he groans in approval against me.

"I love you," he speaks against me and I let a small moan slip as his hand lowers and squeezes my ass gently through my yoga pants.

"Babe, I'm not gonna be able to keep my hands to myself all night if you keep this up," I whine, letting him move from my mouth to my jawline and then to my ear, taking it in his teeth and tugging.

It gives my shivers, making me weak in his arms, and he knows what he's doing.

"I'm already dressed," he counters. "And the suit doesn't come off until after dinner."

"Mmmm...can I have my dessert first?" I breathe.

But he kisses my neck once and then releases me completely, leaving me sexually frustrated already. "Patience, my dear."

"You're gonna kill me, Downey," I curse him.

"I'll make the wait worth it," he promises, waving to the bathroom. "Now go get changed into something nice."

"What, yoga pants and sweatshirts aren't nice anymore?" I ask, spinning around and walking back into the bathroom with a playful smirk after grabbing something from the dresser. 

"I was looking at Jeff Rubie's," he calls back as I slip into a form fitting blue dress and brush my hair out.

"That's a steak house!" I argue, not even bothering arguing the cost of that place. "You won't eat there."

"They have other things."

"It's expensive," I counter when I come back out into the room and he lets his eyes wander up and down my figure, grabbing my bag from the floor to hand to me. 

"I'm a millionaire," he states, as if it's common sense, and I sigh, accepting it; there's no fighting him when he's like this. "Come on, let's get that fine ass in the car."

"Classy, very classy," I toss his way with a roll of my eyes but a smirk on my lips, but when I go to take my bag, he holds on and pulls so I stumble forward and he catches me, dark eyes shimmering with that playfulness I love.

"I missed you," he admits, sincere and kind, and my heart melts as I squeeze him in a hug, content. "I mean really missed you."

"Not as much as I missed you," I answer, listening to his heart beat for a moment more. "How long are you staying?"

"Just the weekend," he tells me, kissing the top of my head. "On my way to New York so I made a pit stop. Just don't want us to go so long without seeing each other. Thought maybe every couple of weeks or something, at the longest. Maybe sooner, I don't know."

"I like that idea," I agree. "Can I make a request though?"

"Anything."

"If we're doing that, we have to stay the night, too. I miss falling asleep with you...this bed's too empty."

"Funny," he smirks, letting me go and taking my hand to lead me to the door. "Last time you shared a bed with me you complained about how cold my feet are."

"I love your feet, sweetie," I tease, stepping out and heading down toward the elevator. "I just don't appreciate them on my bare skin in the middle of the night." Pushing the button to call it, I turn back to him. "So do we have a deal?"

"Duh," he quips and then pulls me against him, his arm around my waist instead as we wait and he pulls out his phone to text someone. "Let me have valet bring the car around..."

"You drove here?" I ask, and he smirks, putting the phone back in his jacket pocket as we board.

"Good thing this place is kinda like LA. Enough of you singers around to split up the fans and the cameras."

"Or they just don't follow me like they follow you," I argue. 

"Oh, that's not true, and you know it," he teases as the lift settles and we're let out in the lobby. "I've seen the photos, seen your accounts recently. You, miss, are going places."

"It was just a couple times..." I mumble, remembering the few encounters with some paparazzi going to and from the studio in the past weeks. "Hey! If you're staying, you can come see the studio tomorrow!"

"Do I get to hear what you've been working on?" he asks, smiling down at me as we walk toward the entrance.

"Well, I wasn't supposed to go in, but I want your opinion. Of course you can listen," I laugh in agreement and he pulls out sunglasses, despite it being dark, and tosses them on before leaving.

The dork refuses to let me open my own door, still being a gentleman as he maneuvers himself around the car, despite the few paps that actually have gathered...probably seeing him come in. Makes sense...I didn't look online at all today, but word must've spread that he's in town.

It's funny how normal this publicity is for me. We're both into the restaurant with eyes on us as he takes my hand and hands his keys to the valet...and it feels good. It makes me want to have this life for a while. Want what's hopefully coming for me with this album, if things go well. I feel comfortable, with him, with his status...I'm not as shy or reserved. And I can tell he's picked up on that, because even though he's still playing the part of protective boyfriend to an extent, he's definitely giving me a little more of my own space...in a good way.

The table's under reservation, everything apparently set up earlier in the day. Lord, is he a planner. And honestly the best boyfriend...and I still don't deserve him.

"So, a whole year, huh?" I tease once dinner's served and he catches me up on stuff on set that I've missed; apparently they've pretty much wrapped, but he's still helping out...and entertaining the new Avengers script for the the fall, when first round of shooting is going to start.

"Weird, isn't it?" he smirks, picking at his food. "You've put up with me for an entire 365 days."

"It's been tough," I joke, and he shifts under the table, tapping me lightly with his foot. "Hey!" I laugh, shooting him a playful glare behind my smile. "Watch it, sir."

But two can play at that game, so I slip my foot out from under his and let it drift up his pant leg, making him fidget.

"Miss Thomas..." he muses, entertained. "Are you playing footsies with me?"

But I can only blush and divert the subject, feeling childish at my attempt to make him squirm. So, I tuck my hair behind my ear and change the topic to something else.

"So they're letting your old ass play Tony again?" I toss back, and he raises an eyebrow, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

"Ouch," he huffs. "No dessert for you." I fake gasp, making him chuckle. "They gave me the first script last week. Needs some work but seems solid. And uh, well, I was entertaining another idea, too..."

"What?" I ask, genuinely interested now.

"Something I've been writing with the team," he admits. "Thought maybe I could try my hand at writing and producing...and starring."

"You wrote your own film?" I ask, impressed. "For real?"

"Sort of. A concept," he corrects. "I'll send it to you, maybe...maybe you can help me fix it up, and if the team likes it we can shoot it in the fall, and-"

"Why have you been hiding this from me?!" I ask, grabbing his hand across the table. "Bobby, that's amazing. I mean, I know you're talented already, but-"

"Just read it first," he offers. "Before you get all excited."

"I'm sure it's great," I offer. "What's it about?"

"Uh, a lawyer. And his dad. It's a...well, there's some scenes, and...just read it," he settles on. "Please?"

I nod, eager to see what he's kept up his sleeve. "Yeah. Yeah, send it to me and I'll read it this week."

Huh imagine that...RDJ a screen write as well? This could be interesting.


	72. Chapter 72

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Uh...smut, mostly. Some fluff at the end. I don't know what I'm doing with this anymore so I'm just winging it, lol.

"You're getting crazy again," I breathe into his mouth, not giving a shit that we're a total wreck on the side of the highway. 

Yeah, did I mention that? Here's what happened.

At dinner, upon paying the bill, the waiter returned with the receipt and Robert's card and quickly dismissed him, and honestly...I think he's a bit upset about it. Not like intentionally, but the guy got a little star struck...and it wasn't over Iron Man for once. Instead, he nervously offers his hand in gesture to me and I blink, waiting casually.

"So, I'm not supposed to ask, but uh...I've seen the news about you in the studio and I just need to know, is there an album coming out? Because I saw you on tour with Sting and I was hoping you'd release some more stuff, especially after the EP..."

"You saw me on tour?" I ask with a genuine grin, and I might have sort of completely forgot about Robert, now invested in this conversation.

"Yeah, I mean, you're really good, I love your writing..." he stammers. "Is it cool if I get an autograph...like not on the receipt?"

And I laugh, dropping my napkin on my empty plate and nod, taking the pen in his hand and a piece of paper he's handed me. "I'd love to sign for you," I tell him. "Especially because you'll be getting Mr Downey's on the receipt."

"Thank you," he sighs, grinning at me when I hand the paper over to him. "I can't wait to hear your album, if that's what's happening..."

"It is," I laugh. "Keep an eye out, I'll release info as I get it."

"I will," he promises, then gives me another smile and takes the paper and the signed receipt Robert left to the back to log.

Of course, that leaves me with pressed lips as I look back at Robert, who looks unamused, eyebrow raised and arms folded over his chest as he waits for me to settle. His pout is adorable, but I know he'll never admit to being jealous of losing the spotlight for a few minutes.

"That's new," he comments, and I narrow my eyes trying to read him.

"You're being ridiculous," I inform him plainly, not wanting to start an argument. "Are you ready to go?"

"I'm not being ridiculous, he's being ridiculous. Does he know how much my autograph is worth?"

I nearly snort at that, shaking my head and standing with my bag in hand. "Someone's full of themselves."

"And someone's letting the newfound fame get to their head," he counters.

"Excuse me?" I ask, starting to lose my temper a little bit. "I get noticed one time, and you're going to ruin that for me because of your own ego?"

"I'm not ruining anything, I'm just saying, the kid could've had two signatures," he argues.

But his arm snakes around me when he stands to join me in leaving and heading back to the car, and his hand squeezes a little too hard on my hip, encouraging me to squirm in his grip. It chills me for a second; it's not over aggressive, but for a brief moment I have a flash back to Charlie, back to the dominance. But I'm trained now...I don't react too much, careful to not let any frustration slip in front of the cameras as he asks valet to bring his car around. Instead, I just mutter under my breath, straightening my shoulders.

"What's your problem?" I hiss, voice level.

"I told you I don't have one," he answers quietly, gaze straight ahead as the street lights reflect off of the sunglasses he's pulled back out.

"Then let go, you're hurting me," I snap, a little over dramatic, yeah, but I want to see his reaction.

And thankfully he isn't too far gone into his temper, which he did admit to having forever ago when we first started hanging out. He releases his grip instantly, finally looking over at me, but I don't feel like meeting his eyes, I'm too annoyed and trying to calm down. But I can sense an immediate shift in mood and his hesitation, which is interrupted by both my wildly beating heart and the valet driver bringing the car around through the small group of paparazzi scouting us out from our arrival. 

The valet opens my door so he makes for his side instead, and reading my silence as I place my bag on my floor and put my seat belt on, he secures his own and moves the car into gear. And it's quiet as I cool down and he drives...until he places his hand on my leg and I shift, staring out the window away from him.

"Hon, I'm sorry-" he starts, and I sigh.

"Not right now, Robert," I mutter. "Just drive."

"Rach, this is important-"

"I said not right now," I demand, and that's when he snaps, pulling the car off to the side of the road and putting it in park.

"Now, let's do this 'right now'," he decides, shifting in his seat to look at me and grabbing my attention.

"Robert, we're on the highway, you're going to cause an accident!" I growl, annoyed now, but he looks too concerned to stay mad at, so I sigh and run my hand through my hair instead. "What?"

"Look, I have a temper, you know that," he offers carefully. "But I wasn't...I didn't mean to grab you like that, I-"

"I'm fine," I answer, sincere, though he doesn't believe it. "I'm not glass, okay? Things are different, I'll live."

"That's not funny," he answers, and I give him a look, scolding him silently. "Rachel, I am so sorry."

"Robert," I groan, "it was nothing, it was just an argument. I was being dramatic; it's over now."

"No," he insists, sitting back in his seat and running his hands wildly through his hair. "No, no, I fucked up. I came here to surprise you and take you on a date or two, spend time with you, and I just-"

"Bobby, stop," I beg, feeling guilty now.

He exhales slowly, leaning his head back and closing his eyes for a moment. And it dawns on me how frustrated he is. He looks too conflicted, too bothered... And I'm suddenly fueled by that side profile of his, and those eyes when he opens them and looks back at me, chocolate and clouded with annoyance.

And that's when I make the decision, remembering what we discussed in LA before I left. So I unbuckle my seat belt and while he stares at me with confusion, I slip myself over the center console and into his lap, facing him in the driver's seat. He hesitates, not sure what to do when he rests his hands on my hips and watches me, his breath shallowing as he swallows.

"Rach," he warns. "We're on the highway..."

"Just kiss me," I order, hands resting on his cheeks to steady him before I lean forward and kiss him, hard, and he's not shy about kissing me back.

His hand reaches up, tangling in my hair as his muffled breath escapes as a groan and he pulls me in against him.

"You're getting crazy again," I talk into him, and that leads me to where I started.

"I haven't seen the therapist in a while," he admits between kisses, then reapplies his lips firmly to mine one more time before moving onto my neck, the cool chill of his breath lingering as he nips.

"I can tell. We said we'd work in some exercise to help you out, right?"

"I love you."

And now my hands are wildly playing with his shirt, pulling at it to untuck it from his dress pants as I blindly gasp for breath. God, do his lips do good work on me. I mean, he knows exactly what to do to make me melt, but hell, did I miss this.

"Here?!" he asks when he realizes what I'm doing and I hum in confirmation.

"I told you I wouldn't be able to wait," I whisper, whining when he lightly bites that favorite spot of mine just above my shoulder. 

"I don't have any on me, they're at the hotel," he tries to explain, but my mind's racing and apparently speaking for me without prior agreement.

"You said you're good at pulling out," I remind him, and thank God that's the same moment there's a knock on his window and I nearly hit my head off the roof.

Shooting me a warning glance, he starts rolling down his window while I jump back into my seat, awkwardly fixing my hair as I sit in embarrassment. Seriously? Of all the thirty years of my life...now is when I get caught doing something stupid...like having sex in a car?

"Hi," he greets, turning on the cutesy Downey charm to the male police officer on the other side of the window and I am absolutely mortified at this point, so I turn my face and try to avoid eye contact at all costs.

"Holy shit," the officer curses, and I'm pretty sure that's not how they're supposed to talk, but right now...I'm just glad we're back to Robert being the more famous one. "I, uh...sir, you're idle without your hazard lights on."

"Oh, shit," Downey curses, looking at the dash and pushing the button to turn them on. "My bad. Had to take a call and didn't want to be on my phone while driving," he lies.

I smirk, wanting to snicker, but instead, just shoot a polite smile to the window, still avoiding eye contact, though.

"All right," the man agrees, thankfully. "Just uh, be more careful next time, it's dark and people might not see you over here..."

I know for a fact Robert's fighting the urge to answer with 'you saw me over here', and it almost makes me laugh. But he just smiles his pressed lip, adorable smile and nods curtly.

And then just as quick, he's gone, back into his car, and I sigh a big sigh of relief as Robert rolls up the window and bursts out laughing.

"Could you imagine if he saw you in my lap?" he teases and I groan, rolling my eyes.

"He probably saw your untucked shirt," I point out. "He's just being nice. And you're lucky he is! If any of those priors are still hanging on..."

"He didn't see anything," he counters, then sighs and puts the car back into gear. "As hot as that was...let's get back to the hotel and save the PDA for later."

I quickly agree, not wanting to run into this problem again, and quite frankly, my mood is gone anyway. But the car ride is still silent, now awkwardly silent, and it's actually a relief to make it back so we can hopefully move past this weird place. 

We duck in, unnoticed, and I kick off my heels at the door, turning on the light so Robert can see as he shrugs out of his jacket and starts unbuttoning his shirt and wanders in to the living space. It's a calm silence now, relieved to get in without a hassle and maybe spend the night hanging out, falling asleep with him again and resetting for tomorrow. But he has other plans, and they become apparent when I head to the bedroom and he follows, scooping me up in his arms from behind.

His lips are instantly back on my neck, one arm secured around my waist and another slipping down and tugging up the bottom of my dress so he can run his hand dangerously up my thigh.

"Bobby," I giggle at first, but it swiftly moves to a moan when he reaches my center through my underwear without warning. "That's...that's not fair."

"Fair?" he hums into my neck, his hand moving delicately against me as he walks us to the bed. "What's not fair is you teasing me before we left, at dinner, in the car..."

"You said no," I gasp as he maneuvers my underwear down and my dress up, giving him access to anything he wants.

"I said be good and I'd make it worth the wait," he corrects. "That was not good."

I groan and try to spin around, wanting to kiss him, to touch him, anything, but he holds me steady.

"Nope, you don't get to see me," he warns, biting my ear softly.

"Mmm..." I sigh, closing my eyes and falling like putty in his arms with a smirk plastered on my face. "Is that my punishment?"

But he only huffs in amusement when my knees hit the bed and I gasp again. "On your hands and knees," he demands, and I blush, realizing we've never really...done much past the basic positions.

But there's also a fire in me that wants to move past those boundaries, especially after that talk we had before the convention, so I swallow down my nerves and move into the requested position on the bed after kicking my underwear off, and try to hide my heated cheeks as he drops his lower half.

"Stay still," he orders next, and I inhale sharply when he finally touches me again.

I can feel the cool feel of the latex he's applied as he strokes back and forth against me, his free hand on my waist for balance. It's exciting, new...and I know he needs this as much as I do after earlier. That, and I've just been a mess since that photo he sent me a while ago.

But then he presses in and I squeak in shock, unprepared mentally for that. But physically...physically yes, I'm more than ready, ducking my head as I accept him in full.

He chuckles blindly from behind, letting his other hand match the first on my other hip, and then he's moving, pulling out an pushing back in at a slow pace. And it's hot; it's agonizing, not being able to touch him, but the new angle is a very good different, and as he picks up is pace, his breathing gets louder and louder, and I close my eyes, trying to picture that focused face he always makes.

When he hits particularly hard and quick, I feel my body cave and with each thrust he's pushing me further and further into the bed. But he makes sure my hips are stable, slipping his arms around my waist and holding on as he presses his body against mine and pants in my ear. The cool, weighted feel of his necklace rests on my back and chills me, but it's quickly forgotten.

"You like this?" he asks, his voice losing some of the dominance as he focuses on making us both feel good instead.

And I press my lips together, feeling the heat warm my body from the friction and his breath on my neck as he kisses my shoulder. God, is it hard to suppress the moan in my throat, and he catches that as I gasp and clench the sheets in front of me.

"Yes," I whisper, biting my lip as he thrusts hard and I groan.

"Don't wake the neighbors, sweetheart," he teases, panting, and that just makes me laugh.

"You mean don't wake Devin?" I ask, feeling his arms clench around me, this time in a good way.

"On second thought," he breathes, then lets his hand slip between my legs to help me out. "Make her jealous."

"Bobby," I whine, feeling myself being pushed to the edge as he rocks the bed. "Fuck..."

"You know I love it when you say my name," he reminds me, though he's shaking now, and I know neither of us can drag this out much longer.

So I let myself release, taking a breath in and tensing up on him before he reaches his own. And then he's collapsing over me, pressing both of us into the mattress as I gasp for breath and try to steady my racing heart. My limbs are like jelly, sweat glistening between us.

"That was..." I sigh, and he nods against my back, making me laugh this time.

And eventually he removes himself, then offers me a hand and helps me stand back up to rid myself of the clothing still clinging to the top half of my body. He's an adorable wreck, his shirt unbuttoned but hanging from his shoulders still, his hair a floppy mess in his eyes. It makes me smile, accepting his help as he slips me from my dress and then excuses himself to the bathroom to clean up. I give him a few moments of privacy, then join him to brush my teeth, him mimicking me.

He doesn't make it easy, though. He's back to playful, opening his mouth as he lets the toothpaste foam drip into the sink as he grins. I roll my eyes, shaking my head at how much of a kid he is, and then spit and rinse before splashing some water on my face; I'm too tired to take a shower right now, so this will have to do.

When I reach for the towel, it isn't where it usually is, and he quickly hands it to me, letting me dry my face. I smile in silent thanks, then drop it back into its place, but he doesn't take his eyes off of me. And not in a weird, oh, we're both naked kind of way. No, he's just staring at me, eyes on mine, and it makes me blush.

"What?" I finally ask, and he shakes his head, shrugging it off.

"Sorry," he apologizes with a happy, soft smirk. "You're just stunning, Rach. And I don't get to see this real, makeup-less version of you much... You don't need it, at all."

"I don't know," I try to protest, embarrassed as I avoid his gaze for a second. "With all the cameras now..."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he admits, reaching out to pull me against him, his arm around my waist loosely. "I'm sorry about earlier, babe."

"I told you I was being a brat," I argue. "Please stop apologizing."

"It's not that you had the spotlight, or whatever. I'm just not used to the confidence."

"Confidence is a good thing," I tell him slowly, and he agrees with a twitch of his nose. 

"I just don't want you to lose you," he admits quietly. "I don't want you to get a big head like I did and get lost in the fame, or even think you need to look a certain way to leave the house... So I got frustrated and lied about why and-"

"You think I'm different?" I ask, genuinely concerned as I tilt my head and my brow presses together.

He shakes his head, his thumb rubbing circles into the small of my back as he thinks. "I wasn't expecting you to be that comfortable. You didn't need my help anymore."

And for some reason, that warms my heart, making me giggle at his lost puppy look as he frowns and waits for my response. He looks so young right now...so open, so pure. His eyelashes dark against his cheek bones are obvious in the bright florescent lighting, and I watch as his Adam's Apple bobs when he swallows uncomfortably.

And then something comes over me and I let my hands cup his face and pull him into a kiss, long and emotional and passionate as I squeeze my eyes shut.

"You're the expert," I promise at last when I release him. "I am never not going to need your help," I chuckle. "All of this, whatever comes...is because of you. And it won't mean anything without you. I just need to adjust to when you're not here, so I boosted my own confidence in the past couple of weeks, or tried to."

"It worked," he agrees.

"I didn't really do anything different," I admit. "But people know me here."

"People know you everywhere," he promises. "It's not hard to keep up with you."

"Weird, isn't it?" I laugh. "In one year, I've become as famous as Tony Stark."

"Don't get cocky," he teases, but then rests his forehead against mine and sighs. "I'd never hurt you like he did, Rach..."

"I know," I assure him, kissing his cheek and pulling him in for a hug. "I know you wouldn't. Which is exactly why I'm going to fall asleep in that big ass bed with you tonight, and no one else."


	73. Chapter 73

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm like sick as hell again, yay. I swear to you guys, every time I use PTO from work I get like morbidly ill. Just kidding, I'm being dramatic. It'll pass. But it still sucks. Anyway, hope you're still reading.

_I can feel his grip on my shoulder, his arm draped around me on the couch. He squeezes, and I try to ignore it, and then he gives some BS excuse of needing to work in the morning, so we have to head out. I didn't even want to be here in the first place...he drug me here, so I'm all for leaving...if I didn't know what would come later. He's mad, probably because his friend has shown so much interest in me. It's normal, a friendly way, but Charlie's possessive, and I know that well._

_"Come on," he ushers, standing and pulling me with him, his arm not moving as he holds onto my shoulder._

_"I was talking to Adam," I remind him, shooting him a glare, and he smirks back, cool and icy as I'm used to._

_"So talk to me instead," he offers, and then he says goodbye to his group and leaves the small party, leaving them all staring at their video game match on the TV._

_I try to steady my racing heart as he leads us outside, but he doesn't let up on the mood. He's silent, but slams my door closed after telling me to get in the car. And then he drops into his seat, and I quickly text Devin letting her know he's in a mood in case she needs to intervene._

_It's been bad lately. Bad enough to give me a bruise I'm hiding on my collar bone, and not the fun kind. There's one I feel coming in on my shoulder now, to match, and don't remind me of the black eye I had a couple weeks ago that I thankfully was able to play off as a trip. It's been fine...it'll be fine. I'll go home, take a bath, take a pain killer, sleep it off. Now to focus on getting him to just drop me off and not come in..._

_"You know I don't like you texting him," he tells me. "Are you texting him?"_

_"No," I promise, putting my phone away. "Just Dev."_

_"What the hell do you see in him?" he goes on, starting the engine. "You're dating me, in case you forgot."_

_"You don't let me forget," I mumble, then quickly follow up with, "I'm just being polite with your friends."_

_And he looks at me, making me uncomfortable, and then quickly and quite aggressively pulls me in to kiss me, his hand tugging at my hair as he holds me against his lips. And I grunt and protest, pushing him off._

_"Stop, that hurts," I complain, and he only smirks and puts the car into gear._

_"Stop being a baby. It's called passion."_

_"It's called abuse," I counter, and that's when he jerks the steering wheel to turn us into the street in response._

_Only the loud scream of a car horn sounds and he slams on his brakes before going too far into the street. I grab my seat in fear, heart skipping, and the other car slowly continues driving on, avoiding the almost accident._

And that's when I wake up with a gasp, eyes flying open. I take a deep breath though, knowing how to handle these now. They don't happen as often anymore, but I still have nightmares occasionally. Usually when something reminds me of something he's done, which has become few an far between...but...maybe Robert's mood at dinner set me off, I don't know.

I sigh, reminding myself Robert won't do anything, it was just an argument, which he apologized for more times than necessary, and as soon as I told him I didn't like how he was holding me - made up or not - he let go. So...maybe it's my own guilt for making it more dramatic than it needs to be, I don't know...

Weird, though... I'm on my side, looking at the sun rising in the sky through the window. And there's no weight on me, no warmth...and when I slip out of bed, I glance back at Robert asleep face down on his pillow, sleeping on his stomach. The sheets cover his legs just slightly, his pajama pants for fall visible as they hang low over his hips. His mouth's ajar as he breathes, a quiet snore audible. It's cute, and he looks peaceful...so I don't wake him. 

Grabbing his shirt, I make for the main area of the suite, leaving the bedroom, and collect the flowers I left sitting on the desk the day before. I should put them in water...and then check the vase's of the others, and maybe get them off the floor. It was a cute idea, but I want them to live for a while, so they need sunlight.

While I'm filling the vase, trying to be quiet, my door opens; the front door, and it's not unusual, so I don't panic. Devin's got a key, and she usually joins me for breakfast if she isn't on the phone with her guy - did I mention they apparently defined it? I don't know. She's been talking my ear off about how to handle the long distance thing, as if I've figured it out, myself...

"Holy shit, did you rob a forest?!" she yelps when she enters, dressed and ready for the day. "If you wanted something to make the place more homey I could've arranged for a delivery..."

"I didn't buy them," I tell her from the sink before placing the ones in my hand on the counter.

"Okay...I was kidding about the robbing thing. You know you have like close to half a million coming in after the tour and the single and the convention and EP..." she rants, oblivious to the shirt I'm in, cause honestly, I stole a ton of his clothes to wear around and she's used to it. "You don't need to steal things..."

Half a mil? Jesus. I mean, I knew I had money, but collectively...I just haven't checked the accounts in a while...she handle that stuff, and it's not like I made big purchases or anything. Huh, speaking of, maybe I should pay back Robert for the damn house if that's the case...

And that reminds me...

"They were a gift," I answer with a warm smile as I pull the filters for the coffee pot out and start that up...and three mugs from the cabinet.

"Rach, you still asleep?" Devin laughs, taking a seat, and I shake my head with a laugh as I turn and wait for it to brew. "What, Dave coming by? I thought you guys aren't in today."

"Dave comes for breakfast?" I hear before I can answer, and the grumbly, low voice of Robert interrupts us, him rubbing sleep from his eyes with a yawn as he wanders in and engulfs me in a bear hug. 

"Sometimes, not often," I admit with a giggle. "Good morning."

"When the hell did you get here?" Devin asks, wide eyed.

"You didn't let him in?" I follow up, and he chuckles sleepily against me. 

"She mailed me a spare key a while ago in case I wanted to show up unannounced. And I did."

And then he gives me a big kiss to my cheek and lets me go to pour himself some coffee, splitting it between the three glasses, and I can't help but admire the way his bottoms hang on his waist even now. My eyes travel up his toned torso and to his own brown eyes, and then he smirks, handing me a mug. 

"So..." Devin interrupts, clearing her throat. "I take it you have plans today then..."

"Is that okay?" I ask, forgetting we had a day of shopping planned. 

"Yeah, we can take a rain check on the mall trip," she agrees with a kind smile. 

"Tomorrow?" I ask, and she looks from me, to Robert, and back, probably wondering how long he's staying.

"Well, Randy wants to meet with you tomorrow afternoon, they got the cut for the song and want to play it back for your approval."

"The single?!" I gasp. "Already?!"

"Yeah, they spent the last few days mixing it."

"I'll have to head out tomorrow after lunch anyway, so that's perfect," Robert agrees. "I wish I could be here for that, but charity, and you know..."

"Charity?" I question, and he nods behind his coffee cup. 

"Promised I'd visit the hospital, make some kids happy..."

And that kills me, so I set down my cup and move back into a hug, holding my arms around his top as he leans against the counter. "That makes me happy."

"Get a room," Devin mutters.

"This is our room," I point out. "You're the trespasser!"

"At least she didn't walk in on us last night," Robert says as he raises both eyebrows and sips at his drink again, and I smack his chest, jaw slacking in shock.

"Robert!"

"Ew, ew, ew, I don't want to hear it!" Devin groans, hands up in the air as she stands to retreat back to her room. 

"Dev!" I laugh, calling after her. "Dinner with us tonight?"

"Only if you cool it with the sex talk!" she warns, and then I hear the door close and I laugh again, looking up at Robert as he sets his empty mug down on the counter and finally lets his arms find their way around me, as well.

"I can't believe you're here," I sigh, and he smirks, those pretty eyes shining.

"Good surprise?"

"Good surprise," I agree with a grin, and then I stand on my toes to meet his lips, giving him a warm good morning kiss that he smiles into. "How about a shower?" I tease when I fall back onto flat feet. "Good idea?"

"Good idea," he confirms, enjoying the banter I'm tossing back.

And let's just say...let's just say it's a while and a wet bathroom floor and some damp bed sheets before we head to the studio. I redress as he toys with his hair and take one of his old band shirts, a Journey shirt, and toss it on with a hoodie on top, matching his black sweatshirt and beanie to battle the fall chill outside. It's so casual and comfortable and I love it.

And then we're going out to the car I have on call instead of driving Robert's around now that he's been spotted by the cameras last night. It's nice, because he's used to this, too, and now that we're both so comfortable with the treatment...it's so much less stressful.

He spends most of the car ride on his phone answering messages while he's telling me about the hospital visit he has planned, how he's going to go as Tony now that he's done filming and growing the beard back in, which really only takes a couple days for him.

"So you," he finally lands on when he finishes his event planning. "Tell me what's going on."

"I've told you most on the phone," I laugh when he puts his phone away and takes my hand in his while the car comes to a stop in front of the studio. "Writing and more writing. Devin's got me on schedule to have most of this done by our vacation."

"Mmm, our vacation," he agrees, nuzzling me before I exit the car and pull him with me.

He wraps his arm around me but keeps out hands locked awkwardly behind my back, forcing me to lean into him as we walk, but I love it. I can't help but giggle and for once, I'm ignoring any cameras that may be around, focused on how nice it is to be back in his company.

"What, three days?" I ask, grinning up at him as we make it in, and he smirks back, nodding. "Three days of just you and me and-"

"Sex," he blurts out and I laugh, biting my lip.

"Bobby!"

"Kidding," he giggles back, and I melt at the sound and the light in his eyes. "So this is where the magic happens, huh?"

I watch as he looks around and I nod, hands going into my back pockets when he releases me to wander into the enclosed room in the back and lets his hands skim the piano.

"Impressive," he teases, and I roll my eyes.

"I know, nothing like your big Hollywood studios," I give him. "Come on, hot shot, sit down and play me something."

"Play you something?" he gasps. "This is your venture, little missy."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," I grin, leaning over the piano, and he wiggles his eyebrows, sitting down at the bench anyway.

"You said that last time, and I don't recall getting anything back," he scolds.

I must redden, because I'm embarrassed and I start stuttering, trying to find words. "I, uh... I mean, I was going to, but-"

"Relax," he laughs, playing a couple chords. "I don't need that, I just need you. Now..." he starts, playing the intro to Details, "which one was it you liked again?"

"That one..." I whisper, giddy as he focuses on his playing and I sink into the piano, watching the seriousness on his face as he plays me his song.

It's the first time he's played for me without singing with me. The first time he's sang one of his songs for me. And I'm sucked in, memorized as he plays the familiar song I've heard so many times.

And when he finishes, he looks up with a smirk and I rest my chin on my hands, gazing at him with love. There's something intimate about it...something personal, because I bet he hasn't played for many people.

"Time to show me yours," he pushes in a sing song voice, so I sigh, going to pick up the guitar I've been using at the side of the room and sit on a bench in the center, facing him on the piano as he listens.

"This...is really not my favorite," I admit, tuning it. "But they wanted something up beat. So the final track is going to have everyone else, so don't judge this on the acoustic version. It's-"

"Rach," he interrupts, "just play, I'm not judging you."

"But you should be!" I insist, and he chuckles.

"I just want to hear you sing, come on."

"Okay, okay..." I sigh.

But I'm too nervous, too nervous because I know he's going to know what it's about. Who it's about. And he'll be upset for me thinking about it. He'll be upset that I'm using this as my first song, right? I don't know. I've never let him hear what I've worked on since opening for the tour. I mean, he heard those couple of songs, but none of these, and these are much, much more mature than those were. Those I wrote at the very beginning of everything I suffered through. These...these came from now, came from April last year, came from the nightmares that won't go away.

Regardless, I force myself to take a deep breath, and then start playing, but only the chorus.

"You can't make me, into something you think I'm supposed to be. In your daydream, where you think you know me but you don't really, so make it up, make it up, write the story you want to tell, but you can't make me...you can't make me live this hell."

I awkwardly clear my throat, and avoid his gaze, setting down the guitar.

"I don't know, I just...can I just send it to you when we get it tomorrow, because it's a lot better with the band and the energy, and-"

"You," he interrupts again, making me hold my breath. "Are the most talented woman I have ever met."

"Me?!" I huff, laughing and shaking my head in strong disagreement as I stand to put the guitar back away. "No. Not at all. I couldn't have gotten here without you, and the lyrics only work because it's sort of catchy, otherwise they'd suck."

"It's not about that," he argues, standing and closing the piano cover. "You take this shit, this terrible stuff that I know you still think about, even with this charade you play for everyone, and you source it into this outlet. Into this form of energy that's going to define your life, your career...and you're good at it."

"I have no professional training," I counter, wandering back. "Again, only here cause of you."

"I don't have any professional acting training, either," he points out. "Yet for some reason, people like me."

"Because you're...good at it," I sigh with the last part following slowly. "It's different."

"It's not different," he grins, stealing me in a loose hug, his arms snaking around my waist.

"It's different because your whole family is talented," I explain, sighing but holding onto him with my own wrapped around his torso. "I'm no one, everyone in my family is no one...no offense to them. I should still have a desk job, a boyfriend who-"

"Who what, takes advantage of you? Don't even say it, Rach."

"Who isn't the world's best known Hollywood actor," I finish.

"You know, it's funny..." he hums, narrowing an eye as he pretends to think hard. "Because I shouldn't be with someone who is the world's best known recording artist, but here we are."

"I am not!" I defend, but he doesn't care.

He leans in, pecking a kiss on my lips with a smile against me and silences me. 

"You will be," he whispers against me, playfully.

But that's all he gets to say on that matter, because the sound of the intercom turning on interrupts us, and when I detach and look over a the window, Dave is sitting with his feet up, grinning. He apparently isn't phased by Robert, probably because, well one, they've already met, and two, I've talked his ear off enough about him.

"I wasn't gonna say anything, but then I had this weird idea," he tells us. "Oh, hi, by the way."

"I thought it's our day off!" I answer, looking confused, and he shrugs, taking a sip of the drink he has in hand. 

"That goes both ways and here you are."

"Touche..." I surrender.

"You two should do a song together. Even just back her, harmonize, play the piano or something," he tosses out there, and I glance at Robert, who's frowning, but in a thinking way as he toys with the idea in his head. "Unless you want another duet."

"I uh...never thought about it," I admit, then look back to Robert. "What do you think?"

He smirks, letting his arm find it's way back around my waist to hold onto me. "I think...whatever my queen wants, I'll do."

But Dave heaves a huge sigh and I laugh, loving how cheesy Robert can be and how easily everyone else gets embarrassed by it. 

"On second thought, I'm not sure I want to suffer through that," Dave groans, but I bite my lip and narrow my eyes are Robert at my side, hand running up his chest as I stand on my toes and peck a kiss on his cheek.

"The queen is nothing without her king," I tease. "I say we do it. At least demo it. If Randy likes it, I can put it on the album...I mean, we have time to write, or-"

"You write," he suggests. "I'll help, if you want, but I want to hear what you come up with."

"Okay..." I agree with a grin. "Okay, yeah. This is going to be fun."

"For you," Dave interjects from the other room as a joke. "I'm kicking myself already."


	74. Chapter 74

A/N: Author's Note

I am not sure when I will post another update. I am currently trying to get in contact with my family in Malibu. Yes, the house is a legit place (shocker, I used shit from my real life because I'm not creative at all). They were evacuated earlier today, and the fire is about five miles north of where they are. You know the CVS Roberto shops at? That's literally their back yard (kidding, but you honestly walk through a gate and across the street and you're there). I have seen photos from the house's back deck, and the smoke is heavy in the air and it doesn't not make me feel good about what may come. They are currently in LA at another property and safe, but the house may not be there anymore in the morning, or the other ones on that street that they own. I am heart broken and I'm very glad they are at least safe...

RDJ's house is probably gone. Everything around it has been reported as on fire. RDJ himself is in New York at the moment and is SAFE, so no worries there, but I feel so sad for he and Susan and the family right now. This is not something they deserve at all.

I sincerely pray for everyone involved, as there is no way to stop a wildfire like this.


	75. Chapter 75

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be shorter than usual but here's an update to tide you over. Currently, my family is still evacuated from their homes. The houses are fine as we know right now, but apparently there's been some small flames in the area so they aren't in the clear yet. They anticipate going back in the next couple of days if everything's cleared. RDJ's one lucky SOB too...according to a Google map that is tracking the fire, there's like literally a circle around his house since the teams were trying to protect the school that is right next door to him. I know they had winds come back in so they aren't in the clear till Wednesday, I think the press conference said. As for the animals...they were all on the beach, and someone actually picked them up and somehow my buddy and I tracked the alpacas down online...anyway, we alerted Jimmy just in case so I'm really, really hopeful Robert will reunite with them soon. The good news is they're okay! Prayers going out to anyone else still in the line of fire (literally). This is so stressful. Also...RIP Stan Lee, we lost a legend today.

The weekend goes by quickly and as much as I want to get back to recording and hear the song...I don't want Robert to leave. Funny, isn't it? We haven't spent that much time together since getting back together, but things have settled in. Guess my self esteem and confidence helps that, too.

There's a lot of repetitive stuff in our relationship now, so I'll skip the usual. We're the normal couple, who are spending most nights together in the same bed. The sex has gotten a little more...interesting...since that conversation, but still nothing out of the ordinary, I guess. When he's visiting, we find a way to fill our day with stuff, usually ending up in something that allows a couple fans to interrupt, but that's okay. When he's not...there's still regular phone calls, and photos from both of us sent back and forth. 

But anyway...while he's here this time, we go to lunch in town, Dave included, stopping to take a few photos with fans afterwards. Robert's dismissive, until I squeeze his hand and remind him to embrace it, so then he joins in. We show him around the city after that, walking with him instead of taking the car, and Dave fills him in on where he grew up - Miami - and all that other fun shit. Robert lights up a cigarette, offering one to Dave, who accepts. Yeah, they both smoke...but Robert's definitely been cutting back, as promised...at least around me. They get along pretty well, but I think Robert's just glad I have someone to hang out with when he can't be around to help out.

We stop by a park in the afternoon after Robert decided to dare me to run the monkey bars, and lord, let me tell you, as an adult, that shit hurts. I failed, miserably, and reminded myself I should probably hit the gym at some point, and Robert and Dave laugh at me.

"Hey, it's not funny!" I snap, giving up and landing on the ground again. "You try it!"

"Easy," Robert shrugs, hopping up and grabbing onto a bar and lifting himself as though it were a pull up bar.

His shirt tugs up, revealing his lower abs just a little bit, and his arms...Lord, his arm muscles tighten and show off just how toned he is. I know it's there, but there's something about him flexing it...

"You're drooling," Dave jabs, shoving me at my side to get me to snap back to reality.

I glare at him but Robert's only giggling, letting himself down again. And then he's under me before I can protest and I yelp as he takes my ass on his shoulder and locks my legs under his arm and lifts me so I can reach the bars without trying. 

"Go for it, Hercules," he teases. 

So to be playful, I grab the bars as he runs us down and laugh when we reach the end and he repositions me so I'm on his back, attached to him as he holds onto my thighs to give me the short piggy back ride back to Dave. It's carefree and light and happy and by the time we make it back to my friend, I'm hugging his neck and laughing into his ear. 

I give him a small kiss on the cheek as he grins and catches his breath, and then steal his beanie off of his head when he sets me down and place it on my own, beaming back at him over my shoulder as I start walking away.

"Come on, old man" I tease. "You want it back, you gotta come get it."

"You two are children!" Dave groans when Robert accepts and dashes after me, making me squeal and push past a couple other people, until he reaches me and scoops me up by the waist and spins me around before planting me back on the ground.

"Who are you calling old?" he asks with a hint of amusement in his tone, and I run my fingers through his hair, smoothing it back.

"I didn't call you old, your grays called you old," I push, and he pouts, so I give in. "You look sexy as hell with that salt and pepper mix," I reassure him. "I like your hair and you always hide it under these silly things."

"You're lucky it looks better on you, Thomas," he sighs, then takes me in for a quick kiss before Dave catches up, refusing to run like we did.

"Sorry," I giggle, taking Robert's hand to make it less awkward for my buddy. "Are you coming with us to dinner?" I check in, noting the time, and he nods.

"If Devin's going so I'm not the third wheel all night," he quips.

"She's coming," I promise, and then call for the car to meet us at the end of the block so we don't have to walk all the way back to the place Devin got us a reservation under.

I guess I'm used to this, too. How to get around and avoid the commotion. Having fancy dinner dates set up by my manager, who's basically become my assistant, as well. Even not wearing nice clothes, they'll let us in like it's no problem. I mean, Robert's black, long sleeved top is fancy enough, and probably still cost him a pretty penny, but I just tossed on old clothes I had before I had the money to back myself. Maybe his hat will add value to my outfit.

Either way, I spend the car ride writing lyrics that are now in my head into my phone and silently plan them out as I lay with my legs over Robert's lap. He engages in some conversation with Dave, who's in the front with the driver, but I tune it out. It's something political, and Robert and I are on complete opposite ends of that so we just...don't talk about it. It's a mutual agreement.

But when we get to the restaurant, I must freak him out a little, because he's been away a couple weeks, and...well, things have changed.

"Reservation for four," I smile, and Robert looks at me with a very confused, yet entertained smirk as the greeter nods and grabs us menus to lead us in.

"Of course, Miss Thomas," she smiles.

I take Robert's hand,and then we follow her to our table. She lets us alone, as Devin's already there with drinks ordered, and I sit when Robert pulls out a chair for me, thanking him as he sits next to me. 

"So, under Thomas, huh?" he teases, and I bite my lip with a raised brow, shrugging as I sip my drink. 

"Jealous?" I ask.

"Nope," he disagrees. "Turned on, actually."

That makes my cheeks brighten again and Devin groans.

"You promised to keep the sex talk at the hotel!" she snaps. "It's been an entire day and you're still going?!"

"Sorry," I laugh. "What'd you do today?"

So she tells us about her day, an dinner's full of light conversation about nothing that matters, and I like it that way. There's eyes on us, I can feel them, but I don't care. Instead, I listen to Robert energetically tell a story from the Iron Man set about Gwyneth missing her lines, quoting her in a high pitched voice that's supposed to mimic her.

He gets the bill, though, after some arguing, and then we're back at the hotel, avoiding the cameras again on our way back in.

"So where's Aero?" he calls from the bathroom as he's getting changed for bed after me; we decided to just watch some TV, hang out...just enjoy our time together until he has to leave, because neither of us knows when we'll get another break.

"He's left me for Devin," I laugh.

"He doesn't stay with you anymore?" He spits in the sink after brushing his teeth.

"She's uh...I don't know. Boyfriend problems, but she won't admit it."

"Then how do you know?"

"I haven't seen her texting him at all. No phone calls interrupting us during the day, either. He visited last week and haven't' seen him since."

I kind of feel guilty for not asking, but I assumed it would blow over...so I let it go. Maybe I should tomorrow just to see.

"We didn't talk all the time," he points out, turning the light off and getting into bed with me, positioning the covers over him. "And we're cool."

"We had a little bump there, if I remember correctly," I scold, tossing my phone on the side table and turning off the light.

"Yet here we are..." he muses when I turn back, pointing to the TV, "on all of the tabloids like nothing happened."

"What?" I laugh, then follow his direction as I realize I left a gossip channel on. "Oh God..."

I sink into bed, mortified for some reason, but he's just chuckling, leaning on one arm as his support, the covers draping over his hip, revealing just the top of his boxers. "I thought you were all confident and independent now. A couple photos have you all embarrassed?"

"I never look good in them," I groan. "And they always report something that isn't true. Like last week when I left the studio, I was fucking exhausted and someone posted one saying we were fighting."

"Was that the day you fell asleep on our phone call?" he giggles, and I nod in shame.

"I'm sorry, sweetie...you know I enjoyed your reasoning on why you need the Avenger's A in your house, but you know they're going to keep their hands on that," I joke.

"So I'll steal the next one," he counters, his eyes sparkling with mischief and a smirk that screams he's plotting. "There's gonna be more movies, you know."

But my attention is back on the TV, listening as they tear apart the photos...but it isn't bad for once. It's...it's nice.

Downey Dinner Date the headline reads, and it makes me drop my hands to my lap as they flash a few photos from the day today.

"RaRo, or Towney, whatever you wanna call them..." one guy starts, "were spotted out in Nashville today."

"Going for a walk at the park," a girl comments, "with another friend-"

"I think that's her drummer," a third person interrupts, leaning over one of their desks to join their discussion. "A little bit of a third wheel, don't you think?"

"He doesn't seem to mind," the guy from the beginning analyzes.

"I don't know," the girl dismisses it. "But look at how happy they look since whatever was going on earlier this year. They're all over each other. Cute, cozy...absolutely adorable and completely in love. I want a relationship like that."

And they're not wrong. The photos are...cute. I kind of want to post one tomorrow, when he leaves. We look happy, content. We are definitely cozy, as they are saying. He's got me in his arms and my face is bright with a smile as I close my eyes and hold onto him. There's others of him giving me a kiss after I put the hat on. And it's funny, seeing people look at us in the background that I didn't notice were staring us down at the time. I guess we were kind of making a scene...

"You know..." he breaks into my thoughts, and I glance up at him, smiling with pressed lips and a warm gaze. "They're right, this time."

"Are they?" I ask, squirming under the covers as he pulls me over to him by the waist.

My hands run up his shoulders and he nods, leaning closer to me with his eyes focused on my lips.

"I am completely in love with you, Rachel Thomas," he whispers, and then closes the space between us, his lips soft against mine as he kisses the smile from my face and slowly rolls us over as my hand travels up and into his hair.

He's delicate and caring and slow with everything that night, and I don't want it to end, but eventually I'm waking up to a cup of coffee on the bedside table and my pajama t shirt and underwear from the night before somewhere on the floor to my side. I smile and stretch, rolling over, but the bed's empty and he's already up, packing his bags at the end of the bed. And I hate the thought of him leaving, so I sigh and push myself up, holding the sheets over my chest like he hasn't already seen that a thousand times before.

"Sorry, I was trying not to wake you," he tells me, dark glasses back on his face and a zip up sweater on over some jeans.

"Look at you, handsome," I mumble with a sleepy voice, yawning. "Are those new?"

"Picked em up last week to replace the white ones," he confirms. "You said you like the darker ones better, so..."

"You look good no matter what you wear," I argue. "Are you leaving already?"

"We have time for an early lunch, if you want," he answers. "Just wanted to get this done so I can have a car take me back to the jet."

So we reluctantly agree to go to the lobby for lunch, Devin meeting me sometime after we finish actually eating, and then part ways so he can get on with his charity event in New York and I can meet the label to go over the single before we release it. He promises to come back in two weeks, if we can't plan anything sooner, and hopefully by then I have a song for him to learn so he can record with us. 

He walks me to my car outside first, through the crowd snapping photos of us, and helps me in, leaning down to give me a kiss goodbye before shutting the door and running to his own to take him to the airport. And the second the door shuts, I'm depressed, wishing time would go faster so I can be with him again.

"Are you sure this is good for you?" Devin asks once we start moving toward the studio, and I sigh, nodding.

"Of course."

"You two...I know you love him, but is it worth this? Feeling so sad when he leaves? You literally shut yourself out for the next three days every time."

"I'm sorry," I sigh, looking out the window. "I just hate being apart like this. Things are good, I just...wish I could enjoy his success with him, too. Not just through the phone, you know?"

"It's just a couple months," she tries to reassure. "At least for now. Plus, you guys have that couples getaway thing planned, don't you?"

"Yeah," I agree. "I know, I can't wait. It's our first vacation, you know? First real alone time..." And then I shift in my seat to face her. "You should take one with Ezra," I suggest.

"Yeah, maybe," she mumbles, glancing at her phone and clicking it on and off uncomfortably. 

"You guys are still a thing, right?" I ask warily, and she shrugs.

"We are..."

"But..."

"But," she sighs, "I just don't think he's right for me. He's nice and I care about him, but..."

"You don't have to tell me," I offer. 

But she shakes her head. "No, it's okay, it's just...this sounds silly, but...he just isn't my Robert."

"Your what?!" I laugh, jaw dropping. "What does that mean? Do you like Bobby?"

Is she trying to tell me she has a crush on my boyfriend? Is that why she just asked me if I was sure this was worth it? Come on, Dev, seriously?

"No, dork," she laughs back with a shove to my shoulder. "I see you two...I see you," she corrects softly, "and I see the you I became friends with, but so much stronger. I was so scared for you when you were with Charlie. I was so scared when I found out you had an addiction. And I don't have any of that, I know, but I just want to be with someone who helps me strengthen. I want to be with someone who makes me smile the way you do, because even though I tease you...I've never seen you as happy as you are when you two are together. And that's because of Robert, and Ezra...he just isn't my Robert."

And that nearly makes me tear up, so I grab her hand on the seat as a defense and smile kindly. "Whatever you want to do, you know I'm behind you. Just do what makes you happy and don't settle...that's what you told me, isn't it?"

And that makes me feel better. A little bit. I mean, it's not cool that she's upset, obviously, but I'm glad she still cares about me enough to trust me with that information, despite how long I've gone without noticing something was wrong. And it makes me happy that someone else thinks we're in a good place...maybe I can do this whole stardom thing. That's a good role model, right? Someone who makes people want to be better, have a healthier life...

Maybe I speak too soon, though, because she tells me she's dropping me off at the meeting and has a call to handle some finances, so she'll come to pick me up in a half hour. So I rush in alone, a couple minutes late from Robert's goodbye.

"Sorry I'm a little late, I was waiting for Robert's flight to leave and..." I stammer, dropping my coat at the door when I make it back into the studio.

"Go on, sit down, have a drink," I'm told, and that's when I notice the smell of liquor in the air.

I look around hesitantly, noting that this is nothing like the atmosphere of the last meeting. No, this is relaxed, chilled...uh, reminds me of a casual get together, honestly. Someone offers me a glass of something amber and I decline, but Randy raises and eyebrow and gestures toward the glass again.

"A celebration, of sorts. You know, for the release of your first single in the next couple of weeks."

"Already?" I ask, repeating how shocked I was when Devin told me it was done.

He nods, taking a drink of his own. "We're looking at a release just before Thanksgiving. We can drop prices for a Black Friday sale."

I shudder internally, throat closing at the words 'Black Friday'. They don't relate to anything good...just Charlie. Just the beginning of everything painful.

"Okay..." I answer warily, finally accepting the drink as I sit down across the coffee table and watch as he motions to the couple of guys by the sound board to load the track; I don't plan on drinking this, but I'll hold onto it to be polite, I guess.

"So we'll play back the track," he tells me, standing to walk over to the sound board and mess with a few things. "If you approve, we'll send it to the band, let them give you some feedback...and then we can dish this thing out to the radio stations this week."

"Can I get a copy for Devin and Robert to listen to first?" I ask, and he glances back, making me feel a little awkward.

But he shrugs it off and I set the glass down on the table while he turns back to what he's doing. "If you really want one, but should he be telling you what to do?"

"He doesn't tell me what to do," I answer coolly, a little annoyed by that. "I just want his opinion."

"Why?" 

"Because he's my boyfriend and he got me where I am right now and I want him to listen to what I've been working on," I state, standing and crossing my arms. "I get the feeling you don't like the fact that I'm dating him."

"Just sit down and listen to the track," he counters, ignoring me.

"But-"

"No buts," he tells me. "I'm working on your career here, so do you want this or not?"

And my heart sinks. Yeah, I want this. I want my songs released, I want to make an album, tour... But not if things are going to be hostile.

"Fine," I finally settle on, pushing my temper down.

So he starts it, and I listen, hating the sound of my own voice. But this sounds...good. It's got that bass Robert told me I was missing, if anything. It's got kick that's catchy, a bridge and a chorus people will remember, I hope... And the best part, it's still my words. He kept his promise there, he didn't rearrange anything, he didn't change the lyrics or what sound I wanted.... It's honestly perfect.

"So," he speaks after the first chorus. "What do you think?"

"It's...exactly what was in my head," I admit.

"Good," he smiles back as I wander over to look at the table, as if that's going to mean anything to me. "I'll send you the file, just don't distribute it publicly or it violates your contract."

"Okay," I agree. "Thank you, I-"

And when I turn to him, I note the dish on the side of the table, small and covered in white powder...and definitely not sugar. He glances at it, and cocks an eyebrow with a smirk that chills me, and that's when I really panic. My mood completely flips, from excited to let down.

"Want some?" he offers, holding it out, and I tense up, backing up, ready to let myself out.

"Didn't we just go over who my boyfriend is?" I ask, genuinely disgusted; this isn't even LA, where I'd expect this.

"So?"

"What on God's green Earth would make you think I'd be okay with this?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"Okay, so don't take a hit," he says with a shrug, dishing himself some on his hand and I blink.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope," he answers, glaring at me. "I told you I'm celebrating. You got a good song, we listened to it, and now the world is going to listen to it and you're going to get the recognition you deserve. That is what you wanted out of us, isn't it?"

"I just wanted to write music," I defend. "Not become a junkie."

"If you don't want any, that's fine," he counters. "But don't forget what I'm doing for you here."

I swallow, uncomfortable, and fake a smile. I do want this, I want my music to be released, to help others, to matter to someone... But Robert would kill me if he ever found out about this. And honestly, despite the weird vibes Randy gave off before, this is a step in a whole new direction... Is he this open with everyone? Is it just me?

"Rachel?" he questions, and I fake a smile, looking at the floor uncomfortably. 

"Yeah?"

"I'll see you the rest of the week with the band?"

"Yeah..." I agree awkwardly. "Yeah, I'll be here."


	76. Chapter 76

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this has weird Paul Avery vibes? I don't think it does, but I wrote this while watching Zodiac, so... Anyway, I also had wine, so I hope this makes sense. I'm going to bed now...sorry for another short update. OH and my family is still evacuated, so no idea what's going on with that. Will check in this weekend...

There's another two weeks apart, just before Thanksgiving, and we've made plans to combine our families for the first time. His sister's in town visiting his mother in New York, and naturally, his dad is joining them. I can't leave Devin and my mother, though. It's our holiday tradition, so there's no splitting us up. So...we're all going to New York.

At some point, Devin decides to ditch Ezra. I expected tears, or something, but since we talked...she just seems sure already. Seems like she already moved on, unlike I was when Downey and I split up for that little while there. I admire her for her strength, especially in stuff like this, and let her cuddle Aero all she wants in the mean time, even if I miss the little fur ball.

The week before the holiday, we get photos booked, which Devin comes to, and so does Randy. It's just me, just for the album cover. And it's awkward as hell, because it's my first album, so it isn't anything extravagant... But I'm no Robert, I'm no star, despite what the public may think, and I have no idea what I'm doing. So I'm nervous, I'm shaking, and I'm feeling extremely out of place under the big lights and in front of the camera.

It's your normal photo shoot, I guess. Brown back drop, tons of lighting, camera and computers displaying the photos as they're taken. A fan somewhere for some hair blowing. There's a stool, but we switch between using it or not, same with my guitar. They've put me in dark make up, accenting my hazel eyes, skinny jeans, and a bohemian styled off the shoulder sweater with some shiny rose gold jewelry and a jacket. It's a lot, but at the same time, it's barely anything. I guess they're going for good girl with an edge? I'm not really sure, but at least it's something I'd probably wear on my own, so it's not that out of place.

But Randy seems to think so. 

"Rachel, come on, drop the nerves, let the camera see you," he groans after about a half hour of shots.

"I am," I answer awkwardly. "I'm sorry, I'm trying...I just-"

"This is her first professional shoot....besides those couple for the EP," Devin reminds him, then turns to me. "Come on, just think of the premieres. The carpets with Robert, you did those well, right?"

"He knew what he was doing," I pout. But then it hits me. "Can we take a small break?"

"Fine," Randy groans, nodding to the photographer. "Two minutes, we're only booked for an hour."

So I nod in agreement, faking a smile, and retrieve my phone from next to Devin. I immediately go to my messages, putting it to my ear when I land on Robert's name in hopes of him being able to answer. But he doesn't, it goes to voicemail.

"Hey..." I sigh. "Can you call me if you have a second? I kinda need some advice, and...well, just don't get a big head out of this, but you know what you're doing and I'm a mess trying to take these photos for the album, so...uh, just yeah. Call me please? Love you."

"You don't even tell him who's calling anymore?" Devin asks, amused, as she gets up to take a stretch. "I'll be back in a second, bathroom break. Don't fuck with your make up while I'm gone."

I mumble in agreement, desperately staring at the phone in hopes it rings, but it doesn't, and my two minutes is almost up, and that's when Randy decides to be my voice of reason instead.

"Do you want this?" he asks, hands on my shoulders, and I blink awkwardly, trying to keep my composure despite cracking under pressure.

"Yes..." I mumble, checking my phone again to see if Robert's tried calling back yet.

"Then I need you to loosen up," Randy pushes. "Okay, if you keep reserving yourself, you're gonna look tense and worked up in every one, and we can't use that. We need something happy, something light, something inviting, if you want to sell."

"I'm trying," I snap, glancing back down at my phone, which he snatches and puts in his shirt pocket. "Hey!"

"Focus. You don't need him." He hands me something instead; a leaf, something I'm not familiar with...and it isn't pot, I know that for sure, but.. "Take this."

"What, like swallow it?" I ask, eyes wide and slightly disgusted. "Why?"

"Relax, it's just an herb. Your boy toy's all into this hippie herbal shit, isn't he? Same shit, will calm your nerves."

"What is it?" I ask, studying the small thing in my hand, heart thumping because I don't know if I should trust him after knowing what he's into.

"Tea leaves," he tells me, and I swear he's lying, but then he follows up with something else. "You loosen up, you have a selling album. You stay reserved like this, and I can guarantee you you won't take the stage again, especially under my watch. Now swallow the pretty leaf and go get a fucking drink, and get back here in five so you can pull your end of our contract, got it?"

I blink, swallowing nervously but nodding, deciding to trust him for some reason...and quietly make my way to get a glass of water from the snack table. I take a sip, careful not to smudge my makeup, and pop the leaf in my mouth with another, and take a few deep breaths after I swallow the rest of the water.

I feel empty, gross, like I just did something I shouldn't have. Not even because he gave me something to calm my nerves, but just because I want to do this as me, not me on medicine or whatever. Robert doesn't call back, at least no right away, and a few minutes later they have me back in place under the lights.

"Let's uh...let's try a few with the fan, get some movement in there," Randy decides, eyeing me, and shortly after, I feel like I'm getting into it; maybe all I needed was a little breeze...

Devin comes back a few minutes later, but I hardly notice. I'm too into the shoot now, too focused on the camera and Randy's instructions.

"Can we drop the shoulder a little bit?" he asks next, and I blink, leaning forward, which makes him laugh. "Not...actually the shoulder, like pull down the top."

"Like..." I blink, readjusting my sweater to hang off of my shoulders, revealing some skin, and that's when Devin finally speaks up.

"Rach, you don't have to-" she insists, glaring at Randy, but for some reason, I'm quick to dismiss her, full of energy and the want to make these photos perfect.

"It's fine," I promise. "Come on, what else you got?" I direct to Randy next, who cocks an eyebrow and starts giving instructions.

And finally, after about another half hour of photos, he's calling me over to review some of them, and displays them side by side to show me proof of what he meant by relax.

"Look," he points. "Tense, loose." 

He flashes between the two, showing me one before he gave me those herbs versus after, and Lord, is he right. I look happy and free willed in the second shot, but nervous as hell in the first one. But something isn't right. A tea leaf? Doing that?

"I look..." I start, feeling my heart rate finally steady as the adrenaline goes away.

"You look hot," he offers, but in a manger type way...I think. "See, don't you wish you would've said yes earlier?"

"Said yes?" I repeat, eyebrows pressing together in confusion as I look from the screen to him next to me. "To what?"

He just chuckles, brushing my cheek with his hand and it makes me flinch, suddenly panicked. "Relax," he repeats like earlier, "what you took was barely more than a normal caffeine pill."

"There's that much caffeine in tea?" I ask weakly, though my blood chills already and I know what he's saying before he says it.

"Just a little coke, not a big deal," he shrugs off, then starts cycling through the photos again.

But my stomach drops and I feel sick. I start to see spots, panicking, and realize I'm immediately sending myself into a panic attack. I'm hot, but cod at the same time. I'm thinking about Robert, and what the fuck just happened. I didn't know...he lied, he...

"It's out of your system by now," he assures me. "Just enough for a half hour high or so. That's where your adrenaline came from."

"You...you drugged me?" I breathe in a whisper, trying to focus my breathing but it isn't helping.

"You took it willingly, sweetheart."

"But you lied."

"But I lied to get you to produce, and look, darling, you produced," he snaps back, turning my attention to the screen again. "So you needed a little help, you cares? This is the look of a star."

And as much as I hate myself right now, I glance at the next photo and clench my teeth, realizing he's right; I needed the kick, and without it, I wouldn't look so...so appealing. Sexy, dare I say? God, I wouldn't have even been willing to drop the shoulder...

"You think?" I ask quietly, trying to tell myself it's okay, it doesn't have to happen again...I know better.

"Definitely. You'll be selling out in no time."

Why do I feel okay with this? Just because he said it'll bring me fame? Because it'll bring my music recognition? God, Robert would fucking kill me...I can't-

"Rach," Devin calls, waving the phone in the air. "Your man's on the phone."

And that makes my blood freeze, but I already left that embarrassing voicemail, and...

I make my way over to her, accepting the phone, and flash a small smile before wandering off. I don't want to do anything except crawl into bed after a shower. I need to scrub the guilt off of me, pretend like it never happened. Or do I tell him? Shit...what do I do?

"Rach?" I hear, and I realize I've been hanging onto the phone without saying hello.

"Hey," I breathe. "Hi, sorry."

"Is everything okay?" he questions, and I sigh.

"Yeah, yeah...uh, just had some issues with the photos but I think we got them so no need to worry... Sorry for my message..."

"Don't be sorry," he insists. "You need help?"

"No, I think we're actually done here," I admit. "But thank you. I wasn't sure what to do but Randy talked some sense into me and they turned out really nice..."

"Okay," he agrees, the smile loud on his voice. "I just got into New York...do you want me to send the jet? I can have it there by seven."

"Uh," I think out loud, glancing at Randy, who's not paying any attention. "Yeah, maybe...I'll have to get my mom moving, she wasn't expecting to leave tonight..."

"They can keep it on the tarmac," he tells me. "Just call the desk when you want them to prep, same as ever."

"I'll have Devin on it," I agree. "Thank you...is tomorrow morning okay?"

"Of course," he answers easily, his voice soothing my nerves, even though they're screaming at me for holding back information. "Then dinner Thursday and we can head back Friday...oh, you're off the weekend, right?"

"Yeah," I confirm. "A small holiday break while they label goes on their vacations, you know how it is..."

"Good."

"Why?"

"Jim and I are coming back with you, got us tickets to see Pittsburgh play the Preds."

"What?!" I gasp, excited as hell. "Seriously?!"

"No, I'm making it up," he quips back and I groan.

"Bobby!"

He giggles, knowing that'd set me off. "Yes, seriously. Four. You, me, Jim, Devin, if you want her to come. I can get a fifth, if Ezra's coming, but-"

"They broke up," I answer quickly and quietly, hoping she can't hear me from where I've wandered to in the studio. 

"Oh."

"She didn't seem phased by it...in fact, she compared him to you and said he wasn't good enough."

He nearly snorts out in laughter. "Okay, okay," his deep voice hums, "I shouldn't have laughed, but me? Why?"

"She...thinks you're perfect for me..." 

"Well, she's not wrong," he answers swiftly, and I roll my eyes.

"Okay, mood killed. I'll see you tomorrow," I laugh, and he agrees.

And then there's a lot of awkward meet and greets, I guess. There's the hello to his mother and father...his mom is welcoming, his father...still a little off, but not as bad as last time. It must be weird for them, right? Not being married but still getting together for the sake of their families...as messed up as they may be. They're kind to my mother, despite her being much younger than them, and they don't pay much attention to Devin. His sister, Allyson, is giving us an update on her family, who happen to be sick so they don't make the trip out, after all. She's sweet, interested in my career, and in our relationship, and most of Wednesday is spent discussing the small details, like how we met, that I'm sure he's already told her a thousand times over, but she wants to hear it from me.

We take to bed earlier that night, my ass exhausted as hell and a little moody from trying to pretend like I didn't just take drugs to further my career and then hide them from my ex addict boyfriend. I can't face it...telling him. It would break his heart, and it's already tearing me apart. I'll just bury it, like I do everything else, and hope I can forget about it eventually. He questions me that night, making sure everything's okay, and trusts me when I say yes...which makes me feel more guilty.

There's a big breakfast on Thursday, which I don't partake in. It's a tradition of mine, not wanting to eat on Thanksgiving until dinner. Otherwise there's no room for food, and... Anyway, I get up early, wandering into the living room to find his dad watching the holiday parade, and before I can retreat, he invites me to sit with him, and holy shit is it weird...not even because we don't get along much, but because I...well, my pajamas are basically his son's shirt and some shorts. I didn't expect anyone to be up, so I never changed.

"I don't bite, you know," he tells me after a few minutes of silence as I grip my legs and sit Indian style on the couch next to his chair.

"I know," I respond quickly, trying to sound content.

"I'm sorry if we got off on the wrong foot," he continues, and I let out a breath silently. "You gotta know...it's a habit. I'm proud of my son and everything he's done, but it hasn't always been easy."

"I know," I repeat. Then, after a moment. "Sir...I know he must've told you about me and my life, but...if it wasn't for your son, I wouldn't be alive right now. And I just want you to know that, because I appreciate him more than you could imagine. He's extremely important to me."

And that's when he sets down his coffee mug, sitting forward and looking at me, and me only.

"I don't know much besides your drug history, and your career path," he tells me evenly. "And this isn't meant to hurt you, but if you think for a second that I'm not going to be wary of someone coming in for his fame or his fortune or-"

"I'm not after any of that," I cut him off, finally standing my ground. 

"Then what do you want from him?" he challenges.

I keep his gaze, staring him in the eye, and God, if I ever wondered where Robert's gets his eyes...it isn't from his mother. "I love your son," I remind him. "I love him for his heart. For his sense of humor, his talent, his drive, his spirit, energy..."

"Talent, right," he mumbles. 

"That doesn't mean I'm after his money," I snap. "I've been broke my entire life, and I don't care if I spend the rest of it broke. Thankfully, I have a career going for me right now that's letting me make my own living. It's something I can do that keeps me in line with his life."

"Our lives aren't something you're used to," he comments.

"No," I agree, "they're not. But I want to understand. I want to know every piece of him, famous or not. He makes me happy, happier than I've been in a very, very long time. I go to bed, I think of him. I wake up, I think of him. I think of the smile he's going to have when I see him after a long day. I think of the sound of his voice when he calls me at 3 am with some weird ass idea of his for a script. I think of his focus, when he's doing yoga, or his kindness when he talks to his alpacas or my cat, or my friends and family. And shit, I think of the way he saves me, time and time again when I have nightmares or feel depressed or scared-"

"Okay!" he interrupts, holding his hand up. "I get it, you two have things in common. But what does that mean?"

"What?"

"You love him. So where does that take you two?" he asks again, attempting to make himself clearer, but it's still vague.

"You mean-"

"What future do you have, with someone who has a life as fucked up as his? What future do you have with someone almost eighteen years older than you?"

"I-" I start, panicking slightly, because yes, I've given thought to this, but haven't gone far with it. "He's aware of our age difference. It was the first thing we thought of when we tried to reason not dating."

"Okay," he says as if it doesn't matter. "He's not getting any younger. The man wants a family, if he hasn't told you."

"He has," I reply sharply. "But I don't think that's your place to-"

"I'm just saying, don't drag him along. He's been through enough shit."

"And so have I."

"So you can honestly tell me that you want the same things? With your whole life ahead of you, and his half over?"

"Mr Downey," I growl finally, annoyed. "I am clean," I lie...cause the drugs earlier this week kind of break that, don't they? "I am in love with your son. I tried not to be, twice, and it didn't work. So please...if you don't like me, that's fine. But for Robert's sake, if we don't get along, he's going to let it haunt him until he tries to fix it, and that's just going to make things worse."

He studies me, reading me before finally cracking his jaw. "Okay, fine. Fine, we'll drop this. But just one more question..."

"What." It's more of a statement than a question.

"If you don't want his money or his fame, what do you want? His name?"

"His..." I start, thinking carefully.

My heart's a pitter patter as I try to think up a response. Marriage? Not in my future, after my dad, right? But he already said I'm not my dad, and... But what if things don't work out. No, we can't...we can just stay a couple, we can... 

Bu we're happy. We're really happy. And I told him if he asks for real, ring and all, I'd say yes. Right? Or was that a lie? I don't think it was...but I've always been against marriage. I've never wanted it, not after our family's history...

"Rachel?"

"No," I answer, snapping back to reality and letting my heart do the talking. "No, I don't want his name, I just want him. Whatever he wants is what I want. I want to make him happy, to be that person who he leans on when he needs to, whether or not that includes his name." I take a deep breath, then add, "but just to be clear...when or if he asks...yes. Yes, I will marry him, and I will gladly support him as his wife."


	77. Chapter 77

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's be honest...at this point, these are my own characters and I have no idea who the fuck I'm writing anymore. Also, might be MIA, because this week is Thanksgiving. This week is also Black Friday. This week is also the week that I've written about a thousand times, and that shit is very real to me. I'm fine 364 other days of the year, but I just get...moody, I guess, this week, anymore. So whatever, point is, I may post another update somewhere in there, but might only be one till after the holiday. Anyway, enjoy.

Robert's one of the last to join us, and also still half asleep. We're nearly finished with breakfast when he wanders in, beanie over his head and long sleeved shirt with his pajama pants, that pendent outlines under the cotton material. He makes a beeline for the coffee pot, grumbling until his caffeine kicks in.

"Good morning, sunshine," I tease, now in a better mood since I've had company other than his father.

He downs a big gulp, despite it being hot, and sets the mug down on the table next to me, kissing my cheek and then laying his head into my shoulder with a groan as he hugs me from above my chair.

"Are you gonna eat?" I ask, and he sighs loudly, his breath tickling me. "Okay, well don't bitch at me when you're hungry in two hours and we don't have any food."

"I thought you don't eat on Thanksgiving," he grumbles, and I chuckle over his coffee cup, which I steal. 

"I don't. But coffee isn't food."

"Hey!" he whines, lifting his head and pouting. "Honey, I love you, but I love caffeine more."

I drop my jaw, playfully glaring at him as I hold the cup out of his way. He tries to grab it and I shake my head, narrowing my eyes.

"You're the first thing on my mind when I wake up," he tries, and I smirk and hand the cup over.

"Better," I state.

"...after caffeine," he adds, and I roll my eyes while the others at the table laugh at our banter, except for Devin, who is shaking her head as she plays wit her nails she had done the day before.

There's chit chat while he helps his mom cook, but he doesn't let me help. His sister sets up their dinner table, with my mom's help, and it feels weird, being a part of a house that actually celebrates as a family, despite their issues. His dad's with Devin in the living room watching football, and I would join, but I'm content watching Robert cook. It's kind of sexy, actually...the fact that he's wearing a ridiculous apron with a chicken on it does not take away from the fact that he knows what he's doing and dinner is bound to be amazing.

"So, Rachel, Robert tells us it's just you and your mom at home?" his mom asks over the kitchen island as I sip at my water I've been refilling all day. 

"Yeah," I answer kindly, though it's not a subject I want to talk about, so before I get annoyed at him for telling them about my dad not being around, I try to twist it into a happy thought. "We both can't thank you enough for having us...Devin, too."

"Of course, sweetie," she answers as she turns to grab a bowl of something. "You're with Bobby, you're part of the family."

Family. Weird. That's a word I'm not super used to. Like, the concept, yes. But aside from the few cousins and my grandmother, and whoever else was in Pennsylvania earlier in the fall, I have no one. Just my mom. And Devin. And now...Robert, I guess. It's a warm thought, and it causes me to smile as I look down at my glass quietly, and I catch Robert's soft smirk when I look back up a few moments later. He's happy...happy in general and happy for me, I can tell by the look in his eye...but he's busy moving something into the oven, so he doesn't comment. At least it gives me something to get my mind off the idea of tomorrow: Black Friday.

Did I mention that? Maybe not. I'm trying not to think about it. But you know...not my favorite day of the year. This is the first year without Charlie, though, so maybe things will be different. Maybe I won't think about it, I don't know...

Anyway, there's conversation, mostly me making fun of him for whistling as he carries dishes back and forth and telling him this is all I'm going to think about while he's trying to be all high and mighty as Tony on set. And there's wine, thank God, despite his family knowing he goes to AA still, and then at some point, the table's set up and dinner is served. Its a lazy day, but it's fine; I'm starving and this is the first big family dinner or holiday I've had in a really long time. I needed it, after all of the work at the studio...though my mind is still racing, hating myself for not admitting to what happened. But it's okay, right? It was a one time thing. Now that I know, I won't accept anything a second time.

Regardless, dinner is full of stories; my mother telling them about me as a child, Robert's mother telling her of him as a child...leaving out the drug history that we're all very much so aware of. She tells me how he got that scar on his arm, and about the one on his hip that he said was a bike accident; he wasn't lying. And then at some point, my mom's talking with his mom about marriage and all the fun shit that they went through in their divorces, and I don't want to think about it, so I ignore it and focus on the other end of the table...across from his dad, who's picking at his food in a weird silence.

Until he brings up set.

"So how's that lovely lady of yours at work?" he questions finally, and Robert cocks and eyebrow and smirks.

"Who, Gwyn?" Robert asks, and I take a breath quietly...I'm not bothered by Gwyneth, I'm just bothered by how his dad said it; after this morning's talk, now he calls her his 'lady'? "Uh, good, she's good."

"The business going well?"

"As far as I know," Robert smiles back, dabbing his mouth with the napkin before setting it on his plate.

"Girl's got a good brain for business," his dad continues. "Is Martin still married to her?"

"They're very happy together," Robert warns, and I can tell in his tone...and by the way he grabs for my hand under the table for comfort, but his eyes don't stray from his dad. "He stopped by set a couple times, actually. Brought the kids."

"I never got to meet them," he thinks out loud.

"They're fucking wild," Robert laughs, and I agree, noting the one time I ran into her on set trying to chase down the boy, Moses. "Love em, though. They got along with Ty really well."

Huh, I didn't even think about the fact that another kid was on set for this one.

"Maybe yours can be in your movies one day," his father goes on and that's when I find myself accidentally squeezing Robert's hand from anxiety.

Seriously? I'm already on edge about the fact that it's Thanksgiving. The fact that I still haven't admitted to taking drugs. And the fact that his dad attacked me this morning. But he moves on quickly.

"Still a good kisser?"

"Me? Yes," he laughs, sitting back in his chair. "Her? She loves it."

"Cocky as ever, Downey," Devin comments, smirking over her wine glass as she finally pitches into the conversation. "I believe she yelled 'it's like kissing my brother' before walking off set?"

"That sounds about right," Allyson agrees with a grin. "He's got an ego, that's for sure."

"Not my fault I'm irresistible," he tosses back, and I roll my eyes, shaking his hand off.

Thankfully at this point, the mothers are taking their conversation into the kitchen, so I decide to make myself useful and de stress by avoiding this conversation and taking dishes into the kitchen to clean up. I catch Devin's eye from the table but she doesn't say anything, though I know she can read me well. She doesn't have to ask, I'm sure she guessed all of what's in my head...minus the coke incident.

"You don't have to do that, honey," his mom tells me gently when I drop off a stack of plates on the island.

It's so much different than how my mom talks, and it's kind of funny. But I shake my head, insisting.

"No, it's fine. I want to help."

"Rach, come dry these," my mom says, nodding to her side, so I take a towel off the counter and go for the drying rack.

It's weird...you wouldn't think they'd do all this themselves, but it is a holiday, and they don't want anyone else working on the day they expect to have off, which is nice. Kindness spreads from this family in waves, I swear.

Apparently I'm silent and aggressively drying the plates, because when his mom goes to grab more from the table, my mom hums suggestively, handing me another. "So...fighting again are we?"

"No, not with him," I sigh. "With his dad, maybe."

"Man hasn't said two words to me," she laughs. "Reminds me of my own mother."

"You chose that battle," I remind her. "I'm not mad, even, I'm just...he's just trying to get him to find someone else. And his mom...she's amazing. Polar opposite of his dad."

"And another reason why they're divorced," she laughs lowly. 

"One of many, I guess," I mutter, noting Robert's childhood must have taken a toll on her, as well.

And then there's a clatter of more dishes, and I turn to pull them and put them in the sink, but it isn't his mother returning. It's Robert, narrowing his eyes when I sigh and huff before dumping them into the soapy water for her.

"Everything okay?" he asks hesitantly.

"Yup," I answer dryly.

It isn't his fault, I just am not in the mood to explain this issue with his dad and cause more trouble, and honestly...the talk about Gwyn and him kissing? I didn't need to hear that.

"What, are you mad at me?" he asks, exactly like Tony from the scenes I saw him filming with Gwyneth on the Iron Man set however long ago. "About what?!"

"I'm not discussing this right now, Robert," I alert him, making it final as I put in the last of the dishes and my mom silently washes them, trying to ignore us.

"I don't even know what we're fighting about!" he argues, and his temper is flaring instantly.

"Okay."

"What, is it Gwyn? Are you - Jesus, are you jealous?!" he gasps, apparently stunned. "We're fucking acting. It's not a real kiss!"

"So?" I finally snap, throwing down the dish towel and wiping my hands, easily biting at the excuse so I don't have to explain the rest...and yeah, I guess I am a little jealous. "Who cares? It's really fucking weird seeing someone else kiss your boyfriend a thousand times over!"

"It's my job," he huffs. "You're way out of line right now. It's Thanksgiving."

"I'm well aware. Trust me," I bark back, annoyed that he'd bring that up as if I wasn't remembering what tonight is for me.

"We don't fight on holidays in this house. Not when the day's been just fine, not without reason."

"Fine," I growl. "I'm going to bed, then."

And then I turn and make for the bedroom, if I remember how to get there correctly, but he's not letting it go.

"Rach!" he groans, as if my walking away changes everything. "Come on, wait. We don't go to bed angry!"

But I ignore him, trying to tune it out, and I hear my mom's distant voice start scolding him playfully, probably explaining, but I don't want to hear anything about it. I don't want the nightmares, I just want to go to bed, wake up, and pretend like this transition from Thanksgiving to Black Friday doesn't mean anything to me.

So I brush my teeth, forgetting to take off my makeup, and change into a t shirt and pajama shorts, and get into bed, not caring if the lights are on. I guess I want to leave them on, just so he has a way to maneuver around the room without waking me up later.

I want to cry, but I focus on my breathing instead, lying on my side with my arm tucked under the pillow and my knees curled up into my chest. It's fine. It'll be fine. His dad will get over his issues with me when he realizes I'm not going anywhere. Bobby will forgive you when you explain in the morning, after a good night's sleep, and after you finally have a year without panic, I tell myself.

And after a few minutes of counting my breathing, I feel sleepy, and a little more relaxed...and that's when I hear the door creek open and the running of water for a couple minutes in the bathroom; he must be getting ready for bed. Moments later, I realize I'm right, despite my sleepy haze, and the bed sinks down, the mattress squeaking slightly, as Robert gets into bed with me.

I can feel the warm trace of his fingers as he delicately brushes my hair back behind my ear, but I still don't budge. My panic is flaring, even half asleep, and even if he's being kind...I don't want to say the wrong thing. So I pretend to sleep through it as he gives me a small kiss on the cheek followed by a heavy sigh as he watches me.

"Sometimes...sometimes I don't know what to say to you," he whispers, and it makes me want to shiver, but I hold it in. "I don't always understand how you see things. And I'm not even blaming you, I just don't remember how life used to be for me, before things blew up. I guess...I always wondered if you got jealous, because you never show it, but I didn't handle it right, and... Hell, what am I even doing? You can't hear me..."

There's a pause, the click of the light of the lamp, and then sheets rustling, and I feel his hesitation. But he caves, slipping his arms around me and placing his chin over my shoulder and hugs me from behind, encasing me with warmth.

"I love you, you crazy, beautiful woman," he adds finally, whispering into my neck. "And you are the only one I want to kiss. The only one that means anything to me. And I suck because I didn't realize what today was and I totally get if you wanna cut my balls off or something tomorrow for being the world's biggest asshole tonight, but..." Another sigh. "I know you're asleep, but I'll be damned if I let you sleep alone tonight. I'm not going anywhere, even if you're pissed with me...so don't worry, sweetheart...no one's going to hurt you tonight, and I'll be right here if you need me."

He nuzzles his nose into my neck and takes a deep breath, his thumb rubbing circles on my arms where he's holding onto me. It hurts, in a way, and I want nothing more than to admit I'm awake, but...I'm too emotional. I just want to get through tonight. Get through this, with him at my side, no nightmares - I hope - and tomorrow we can talk.

But it's the opposite. It's the cold, dim nightmare I've had a thousand times over.

Charlie, accusing me of texting one of my guy friends. The desperation as I beg him not to go, the anger in his eyes as he turns back to me and snaps. The sting of my cheek and the ringing in my ear, making me nearly deaf to his apologies when he realizes what happens...but this time, when I don't answer, he gets upset again, and he's pinning me down, yelling for me to listen to him.

_"Fucking stop, Rachel!" he orders, holding me against the bed as I thrash under him. "Be quiet, you'll wake the neighbors!"_

_"Get off," I cry, kicking at him, but the weight on my mid section from his body keeps me pinned._

_I'm panicking. I'm panicking because I can't move. I'm panicking because I know what comes next. But no...no, this was before he started pushing himself on me. This was the beginning. Why am I freaking out? How do I know he's going to push sex? Why does it feel so familiar, as if I can already feel his cold hands somewhere in me where I don't want them._

_"Rachel!" he repeats, and I close my eyes tightly, forgetting to breathe._

_"Get off," I squeak._

_"Rach!"_

_"I said no!" I add, hoping the word no is enough._

_But it isn't, and he grips my chin and holds my head in place, his hand nearly choking me as it holds me hard enough to leave a bruise. "Rachel, calm the fuck down!"_

"Stop!" I gasp, feeling the cool chill of sweat on me already as I jerk up in bed. "Stop, get off!"

"Rachel!"

And it isn't his voice this time, but my heart's beating too wildly to notice that. I'm locked in my dream, body shaking. A pair of arms locks around me, and they're warm, but my brain isn't caught up, so all I see is Charlie, and I wind up thrashing against them blindly as I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Get off of me!" I yell again. "I said no. I said-"

"Hey, it's okay, it's me," his voice assures somewhere in my ear and that gives me reason to panic.

So, I lift my elbow, which is suddenly free again, and immediately regret that as I feel the bone sting when it meets something hard.

"Son of a bitch," he curses, loud.

"Fuck!" I yelp, but jerk back the second he releases me and stumble across the floor until my back hits the wall and I inhale loudly, clutching my chest and letting the sheets fall.

But he's quick to turn on the light and pull himself out of bed to stand in front of me, this time letting me have my space.

"Honey," he tries again, hands in the air but unsure of where to put them. "Hey, it's okay, you're okay. Are you with me, do you know where you are?"

I think I do. I blink a few more times, quickly, focusing on my breathing on my own, and hate the gross, sticky feeling of the sweat dripping down my back and sticking to my shirt. I hate the panicked pressure of the blood flowing through my veins and knowing I'm with Robert, but not being able to be here.

"Rach," he repeats, trying to steady me by finally putting his hands on my shoulders, lightly, and at arm's length away. "Breathe. Okay, can you hear me?"

And that's when I let myself hold onto his forearms and nod slowly, staring down at the floor as I catch my breath and find my surroundings. God, I hate him. Charlie. I hate him for everything he's done. I hate myself for getting so far away from him, but caving just because of what day it is. I'll never escape him.

After a moment, I feel the warm sting of tears slip from my eyes and before I can react, Robert's kissing my forehead and pulling me in for a hug, sensing me waking up a little more. And he's right...I just need to breathe, I just...

But I can't stop myself from crying, and as I come to, I wind my arms around him and hold on tight, sobbing over his shoulder. And it doesn't phase Robert, I don't know how... He just hugs back, stroking my hair and hushing me with a delicate whisper, and my fingers instinctively find the hair at the base of his neck; it's become habit, I guess, a source of comfort when he's with me...I don't know why, but I'm not about to ask myself, either.

"It's okay," he promises lightly. "Shh, baby, it's okay. I got you."

I only hold on tighter at this, unable to stop crying or shaking, and he takes the hint. He's patient...caring...perfect.

And then...he starts singing. Like my own personal lullaby, my favorite of his songs - Details. But it's soft and light and a whisper, his voice raspy but soothing, and he sings until I calm down, several minutes later and finally loosen my grip with deep breath, wiping my eyes.

"I'm so sorry..." I squeak out, clearing my throat, but he doesn't let me go far.

"It's okay, just breathe...no one's going to hurt you anymore," he promises, catching my eyes with his dark chocolate ones. "I'm here to protect you, remember?"

But I don't get to respond, because the door is pushed open gently, and my mother and Devin are on the other side with Robert's sister, all looking concerned.

"What's going on?" my mom asks. "I heard a scream..."

And I can't face them, so I hide my face and Robert, standing in just his boxers as if it's no big deal, pulls me into his side and protects me from the questions, just like he promised.

"Everything's fine," he assures them. "Just a nightmare, just a little shaken up."

"God, Rob, what happened to your face?" his sister asks, stepping in and coming to inspect him, and I hold onto him tighter, looking up to realize his lip is bleeding.

"Just an accident," he promises. "Got a little too close while she was still dreaming."

"About what?!" she asks, nearly glaring at me, and I bury my face in his side, trying not to cry again as panic sweeps over me.

And I nearly tune them out, hearing nothing but their voices somewhere in the distance as I hold my chest again and steady my breathing, breathing in and holding it to count. It's calming me in it's own way, since I don't have the Vicodin to do it for me anymore.

"Long story, it's up to her if she wants to tell you," I hear Robert answer. "We're okay, everything's fine now."

"Rach?" I hear Devin call, and I exhale loudly, so she knows I heard her but doesn't press; we're too close anymore. "I thought we were over this," Devin sighs, talking to Robert and probably my mother this time.

"I didn't get to talk to her before bed," he admits. "If it's anyone's fault, it's mine."

"She's probably been panicking herself all night," my mom sighs.

"What can we do?" his sister asks, and Devin answers for him.

"She'll be okay, trust me. I used to be the one handling this...but he's kind of her rock with this stuff anymore."

"I'll get her back to bed in a little while," he decides, and that's when I speak up, finally.

"I just..." I croak out, clearing my throat. "I just want to take a shower..."

And I feel him kiss the top of my head in agreement. "Okay. I'm right here, I'll come with you, okay?" Then he speaks to them. "We'll be good...sorry for waking you guys."

"No, no, it's good," Devin yawns. "I was expecting it...no offense, Rach."

And then they let themselves out, so he tugs me toward the bathroom next. "Come on, shower it is."

I guess a part of me is frozen, still, because he takes note and without speaking, undresses me delicately, then kisses my forehead before starting the water and doing the same for himself. 

He pulls back the shower curtain and helps us in; it's just a normal sized tub, much different than what I'm used to at his fancy house. I know it's just his mom, so it makes sense that it isn't over the top, and honestly...the small space right now is nice. Now that I'm awake, the closeness with him should help me relax.

And it does. Just like I've said over and over again...he's my drug, my fix for this, and the second he takes me into his arms, I close my eyes, breathing him in.

"I didn't want to wake you before," he sighs. "I'm so sorry...this is my fault. I shouldn't have let you go to bed angry."

"It's okay..." I promise, shaking my head as I enjoy the warmth of the water on my back and his hot skin against my front. "And I'm so sorry about your lip...I was hoping the nightmares had passed, and I felt so sweaty and gross and-"

"I completely forgot what day it was, and Devin told me after you left, but by the time I came in..."

"I was awake," I admit quietly. "I just...I just didn't want to make it worse, I...don't want to cut off your balls," I joke softly, trying to be okay, and it gets a small huff of laughter from him before he pushes me back and grabs for the soap bottle and squirts some into his hand.

"Good, because I happen to like them and I'm pretty sure you do, too," he muses, eyes wildly watching as he lathers the shampoo into my hair and massages lightly. "Just breathe, relax...let me take care of you..."

And I let my eyes close, feeling his fingers rub circles into my scalp as tries to rinse the soap from my head next, but it doesn't help. I need to come clean...about some of it, at least.

"I guess...I'm a little jealous...sometimes..." I give him, and I hear him laugh again, still light, but it's perfection, and it encourages me to keep going. "I don't get mad at you, or her, or...whoever. I know it's your job, and I know it doesn't mean anything, but...normal people don't have to share their boyfriends."

"You know you're the only one I really kiss, right?" he asks gently, and I sigh, listening to his deep voice float over the sound of the water droplets hitting the shower floor. "It's a stage kiss, one my heart isn't in. And I'd try to show you, but I wouldn't be able to, because with you...I always mean it."

"I know," I promise when he goes for conditioner next and repeats the process in my hair. "That wasn't why I got upset..."

"Then-"

"Your dad...doesn't like me," I whisper, leaning my head back; despite my eyes being closed, I can't face him while I tell him this.

"Rach, that's not true," he tries, but I'm ready to prove that wrong.

"This morning, I couldn't sleep, so I went downstairs," I tell him softly. "And he was up already, so we had a chat, and he was questioning my intentions, and didn't like my answers, and...I don't think it's me, really, I just don't think he likes the idea of you being with someone younger than you, someone not famous."

"You are famous," he reminds me.

"Not the same as you. And at dinner...at dinner, he just brought up the kissing, and Gwyneth, and...you know if she had any interest in you, he'd approve of her."

"She doesn't," he points out. "And vice versa. We're friends."

"I know," I repeat. "And it isn't her, like I said. But I feel like he has this idea in his head, about who he wants you with, and I don't fit it in the slightest."

When he finished rinsing out my hair, he rubs my eyes gently, taking off the makeup I forgot to take off earlier, and when I finally look back at him, he's smiling softly, his thumbs resting on my cheeks and his hair slicked back from the water. He's scanning my face, eyes dancing across my features, and it's heart warming and kind and I feel so much better, just from seeing how content he is.

"It doesn't matter," he tells me simply, shaking his head in the slightest. "None of it matters, because you...you are exactly who I want to be with, and that is a call I make, not him."

And in this moment, something overcomes me. I don't know if it's still the hint of jealousy, or the hope that somehow, we'll make it to that place where I'm okay with marriage and he does ask and I do say yes, like I told his dad, or if it's just how he's looking at me...delicate, soft, warm...as if he's falling in love with me all over again. In this moment, I just want to love him back.

"Make love to me," I request, whispering again, and that's when his brown eyes snap back to mine, finally focused.

"Rachel, you literally just had one of the worst panic attacks I've seen because-" he starts, but my hands find his pecks as they slide up his chest and I just...need him.

"Please," I beg. "Please, I need...I want to stop remembering. I want to have our own memory tonight that deletes all of that my head for good."

"Honey, I just think-"

"It's not just a space filler, I'm not just looking for something to replace it with. It's you," I promise, standing on my toes and letting my arms hook around his neck so I can pull him down and lean my forehead against his. "You are what calms me down. Your voice, your touch...you heal me. You don't get it, and neither do I, really, but for some reason, you've always been my therapy. And right now, I am so fucking in love with you, Downey. For saving me again, for standing here, caring for me, looking at me like it's the first time you saw me. I want you to show me...show me this means something and I'm not fucking crazy like I think I am. I..I just want you to take me," I exhale, trying to find words to explain but none of them do it justice. "Please..."

He breathes steady for a second, listening, and then I feel him twitch forward, coming close, but hesitating. But my hands find his hair, and his eyes flicker down to my lips, mine to his, and then he's placing a searing, passionate kiss on me. His arms snake around me, and he presses body to body, and then his touch goes south as he caves, and it's slow and agonizing, but exactly what I need.


	78. Chapter 78

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don't even know what I wrote. I have been full on ugly crying all day. I hate this holiday to begin with, if you haven't heard from reading this thing, and to make it worse, this year, my cat, the one I raised since I was little and she was littler, is probably going to leave us soon. She got really sick this week and I just found out today and it will literally break me. So...just...fuck. Fuck Thanksgiving, fuck Black Friday, fuck this weekend.

The sex...Lord, the sex has my head in the clouds.

He's delicate in the shower. His hands don't grab, they massage. His kisses are slow and intimate and the way he holds me is nothing like my memories from the past few years. He's giving; his arm holds me upright as his other hand touches me gently, down between us until I'm falling against him, panting into his ear. His whispers into my ear, encouraging me to let go for him, push me to the edge faster than anything. And then he's turning off the water, pulling back the curtain, and carrying me to bed, not caring if either of us are soaked.

His lips find my skin, kissing fire down my collar bone. He sucks slightly at every spot he reaches, drawing it out and making me whine through my heavy breaths. There's no words, just kisses, the sloppy squeak of them loud in the quiet room. He pauses when he reaches my lower stomach, going to reach for his bag for protection, and that...that is my dumb decision number one. 

I guess the look is enough, because he swallows, studying me briefly before giving up his search and climbing back up, looking at my with nervous, narrowed eyes. He presses briefly against me to wet himself, making me bite my lip, but my eyes don't leave his. He's trying to read me, I can tell, but my heart's going nuts right now and I can't find words. We had that brief encounter before, at his house months ago, where I let him go without, but it wasn't...it isn't the same. It isn't the same as the importance of this, of tonight, of how much care he's throwing at me. This is me wanting to be connected. This is me wanting his touch, no barriers, nothing but him and me.

"Are you-" he finally tries, but I place a finger on his lips before he can finish asking, nodding slightly before guiding him back down to me.

And there's a content sigh into my kiss when I bring him back in, and then he's slowly guiding himself in and it's different, and intimate, and perfect. He's gentle, he's slow and focused, and he doesn't unlock from my kiss the entire time he's moving with me. He's watching himself, I can tell, and that's okay. But he's also making sure I'm cared for, making sure I'm protected, just like he promised, and his one arm scoops under me, holding my body up against him, arching into his mold.

The longer he lasts, the more sloppy his kisses become, until he's nearly panting in between each one, breathing into my mouth more than kissing back, and then he's shuddering, quickly pulling himself out and reaching a hand down to catch himself, careful not to make a mess. His head lowers to rest on my chest as I hold onto his shoulders, soothing him. My heart's full, beating wildly at this new closeness...this new memory for me to rewrite the pain with.

It's chilly when he leaves to clean up, so I settle myself under the covers, watching him slide into bed with me when he returns. He pulls me into his side and sighs, and I hug his torso while I wrap my legs around his and take a deep breath.

"So..." he offers, apparently still in disbelief. 

"I just wanted to be close to you..." I whisper.

But he doesn't push on it. "How are you feeling?" he asks instead.

I exhale, snuggling closer, and realize I'm perfect. "Safe," I admit, quietly and on a breath. "Thank you..."

"For?"

"Being here...loving me. Even after I elbowed you in the face."

"Yeah, you know what," he laughs, shifting under me, "maybe you should sleep on that side of the bed so I can still go on camera."

It only makes me hold on tighter, and he giggles, rubbing up and down my arm as he settles back into the pillows with me. And for once...I'm not afraid. I mean, I'm definitely not going back to bed right now, even if I'm tired, but I'm not panicking...or really even thinking about what day it is. No, I'm thinking instead about...earlier. Like, dinner earlier.

"You know, I love that you get to be the jealous, protective boyfriend when I'm just speaking with a guy...literally any guy. Yet you're kissing other women and I'm out of line..." I tease, playing with the small amount of short hairs that's grown between his pecks since finishing filming.

"You're not out of line," he promises, voice scratchy still as he plays with my hair. "I am."

I feel like he should have a cigarette or something. The two of us are a blissful, relaxed mess, my head on his shoulder as I lay tucked into his side. It's like four in the morning, and I have no intentions on sleeping again today...maybe on the plane. I know he's tired, though, so I feel guilty...but he's forcing himself to stay up to avoid any more nightmares, and I have too much on my mind.

Like...like the other part of today. Like those lingering thoughts, the ones that he's left in my head ever since Halloween... Maybe...maybe, I mean, is it okay if I think I might want a family? A...baby? It's been a while since the addiction, right? Maybe something's changed. Maybe if I go see another doctor, they'll tell me I'm okay to try. Just watch the usual risks of blood pressure and whatever else. But we aren't even living together, or married, or... I guess we don't have to be, but the tabloids would have a field day. Then again...marriage isn't really a thing in my head, so why am I waiting? I might never get married, if he's okay just staying where we are...knowing we're faithful and a couple.

Shit, I really don't want to be making tonight this big of a deal...

"Don't think about it," he speaks up when he senses the shift in my mood.

"I'm not," I promise, fidgeting with his chest hair still. 

"You're tense," he observes, and I sigh, biting my lip as I let my filter down.

I can hear my blood rushing, my body tense as I try to give myself the courage to speak up. He'll just say no, worst case, right? Why am I worrying so much? Is it me, not him? Am I really that scared?

"I want to have a kid," I state, despite how loudly my heart is thudding due to nerves.

"What?" he asks, his hand stopping and his gaze steady on me when I look up. 

"I want to have a baby..." I repeat. "Not...now, or...just at some point. Hopefully... I'm going to set up a doctor's appointment. I want a second opinion."

He blinks, eyes never leaving mine as he shifts out of our current position to lay on his side facing me. "You want to..."

"Have a family," I confirm. "I've just been thinking about it and I think I...well, I don't want that with anyone, I just want that...with you..." I admit.

"With...me..." he blinks, eyes tired but suddenly bright. 

"Maybe," I nod carefully. "Maybe, in a couple years, if things are okay. I just want to know if I can, so-"

But he doesn't let me explain. He attacks me with a kiss, silencing me, and calming my heart rate. He's happy, and he isn't hiding it, and neither am I. I thought this was dumb decision number two. Thought. It isn't.

He doesn't let up until after another round of playing between the sheets, and at some point, after several minutes of playing with my hair and soft kisses to my forehead, I finally doze off. And there are no nightmares for the rest of the night, even though when I wake up, he's not there.

I can't blame him, though. By the time I get dressed and go to the kitchen, it's nearly lunch time, and I know we leave to go back to Nashville tonight and he probably wants to spend time with his family.

Family, right.

I rub my eyes and smile when I wander in and grab some coffee, now addicted solely because of his own addiction to caffeine that makes it so easily accessible. I take a sip and set it down, and then stand with him as he leans against the counter, part of conversation with the others who are seated at the island. But he drops it instantly as they quiet and let their eyes travel to me, wrapping and arm around my waist and giving me a kiss good morning...or afternoon, at this point.

But I hold onto him, kissing him longer than necessary, especially in front of everyone, but I don't care. He smiles into it, then kisses the tip of my nose when he pulls back. His eyes have a soft warmth to them...a care that wasn't there before, and even though we haven't agreed to actually like...progress the relationship, I can tell just the idea of discussing it in the future has made him even happier, and that makes me happy, in return. And apparently also worries the others.

"Okay, lovebirds," Devin announces, "we're still here."

"I love you," he tells me, as if he's reminding himself, and he shakes his head slightly with it. "No more nightmares?"

"No more nightmares," I grin back. "Thanks to you."

"So everything's okay?" I hear Allyson ask after that, and I nod, releasing him and turning back to everyone else with a blush. 

"It will be," I confirm. "I'm sorry, I...had a bad experience with Thanksgiving and Black Friday a couple years ago, and sometimes I have these reminders... But your brother is the only reason I haven't gone crazy yet."

"He's a good one," she smirks, and he wiggles his eyebrows in response, making me laugh, and lifting my mood for the rest of the day.

He naps on the flight back to Nashville. Let me tell you, it's nice having a jet. Even if it's shared with his team, it's nicer than my uncle's...but to be expected. He's got money, and he uses it wisely. 

Anyway, Devin goes over my schedule with me: more recording, photos for a magazine promo and in store displays, and a couple interviews. There's also talk about organizing a small stadium tour, which is blowing my mind, but I'm not going to tell Robert quite yet...it's not for sure and I don't want to get my hopes up.

Anyway, that song that I was supposed to write? Turned into Robert playing piano on a few tracks the next day. And then, after being caught singing Christmas songs in the shower one morning when Devin answered my phone, he convinced me to record one with him: a duet, Baby It's Cold Outside. Not sure if we'll release it, but it's fine to record... He's in the booth with me, instead of doing his parts separate, and it makes me think back to the first time we sang together in Malibu. He's grinning ear to ear, eyes focused on me as he sings his lines back, and sharing a mic is interesting, because he has me blushing each time he leans in to sing with me...until the end, when he steals a kiss and I forget that the crew is there to record us, watching.

"All right, all right," one of the guys, Nick, I think his name is, interrupts over the loud speaker.

"I told you," I hear Dave laugh from somewhere on their side, and then a loud sigh from one of them, and that finally pulls us apart.

"Sorry," I apologize, biting my lip. "Was that good?"

"Good," Nick agrees. "Let me do some work on it and I'll send you a rough copy."

That night is the Preds game, and Jimmy arranged for another meet up with the team, since Robert's here this time. Honestly, they probably don't care about meeting me again, but they're overly enthusiastic when he steps into the locker room in full Tony Stark fashion, cocky as ever with his arms out. We wind up taking a group photo with them again, which starts going viral the second they post it to the team's Facebook page.

Near the beginning, they put us on the TV screen, according to my mother who's watching from home. She sends a photo of the TV with our names under each of us, announcing our attendance, and it's actually cute; he's got his hand on my knee as I lean against him with my hands loops around his arm. We're a little over the top with PDA, I guess, but we're both smiling, and both oblivious to the fact that during the second intermission, they do that stupid kiss cam thing, right? Lord, do I hate those. Devin has to nudge me at my side, and I do a double take at the screen before giggling into Robert's shoulder, hiding my face. But he lifts my chin with his free hand, the other still on my knee, and gives me a gentle yet lingering kiss, which sparks a very loud and awkward applause and cheer from the other thousands in the building. 

"You're such a dork," I say, biting my lip, and push his shoulder playfully, to which he just grins back.

"I love you," he answers simply, and somehow he makes me oblivious to everyone else in this very public place...it's just me and him, just like he makes it on the red carpets and on set. 

And that's why I hate when he's gone. My nerves in the studio kick in again...despite my new found confidence with fans or the cameras. I have a couple meetings with Randy about the tour idea. They're boring, for the most part, until one leads into a recording session, which he sits in on, and I just...can't do it. I'm too worked up about the idea of planning something so detailed out. I mean, I know I can do a tour, but can I design it? Can I be the center of attention for more than just a few opening songs? I'm not an entertainer...am I? I guess I am now. Fuck.

He can tell I'm distracted, so he has me take five, and I pace the hallway, taking a few deep breaths as I run my hands through my hair. The band's off today, so it's just me and vocals. We've finished everything but that and backing vocals and next weekend I'm back to LA before our trip to Napa, and I just need to hammer this out...

"Are you good?" I hear from the end of the hall after pacing down once more, and when I look up, Randy's standing with his arms folded over his chest, watching. "Is it me? You've been fine every other day when I'm not around."

"No," I promise quietly. "I'm just...looking forward to the holidays, and I guess my head's already on the tour, and..."

He smirks, coolly, and pushes himself off the wall to stride over to me, tilting his head to watch as I shut myself up. "You're my star girl right now, you know."

I frown, exhaling at how silly that statement is; surely they have better artists to worry about besides me. 

But he goes on. "I need you to get your head in the game and get this finished if you want to be a real singer. Albums don't make themselves. Just remember the end game...the tour, the fame...not your boyfriend's, yours. If you need me to go, I'll go," he offers. "Or...maybe a little adrenaline?"

He pats his jacket pocket twice before pulling out a small bag of white powder, similar to what I'd found in Robert's closet forever ago. And I swallow nervously, feeling disgusted with myself about last time as soon as he suggests it...but more so for thinking about it for a moment. I should be saying no. That's the obvious answer. I should be turning it away on the spot, if not for my sake, than for Robert's. But here I am, repeating his words about what's to come for me if I focus, eyes wide and focused as I zone out.

"Rachel?" he asks, and I blink, coming back to the real world. 

And that's when I cave, nodding at him in the slightest while refusing to make eye contact. I can tell he's surprised, judging by his voice, and that makes me hate myself more.

"Not as easy as swallowing this time," he comments. "Ran out of those. But this should kick in faster, give it a minute or two."

I feel sick, my stomach churning as he dishes out a small line in the side of his hand, which is not balled into a fist, and holds it out to me. I stare at it, trying to convince myself otherwise. Robert will leave me if he finds out. The industry will never pick me up if word gets out. But no one else wanted to sign me in the first place. No one else believes in this like Randy does, like the label does. And last time...last time it helped, so...

"Take the hit," he demands, starting to get irritated and losing the softness he's held up until now, and I blink again, my heart beating loudly in my ears.

"You can't...Robert can't know," I breathe in a whisper, and he shrugs.

"You think I care? Keep the pretty boy out of my studio, I won't have any reason to even talk to him. Won't even slip that way."

It bothers me, how much he doesn't like him, but not as much as the fact that I force myself to lean down and actually succumb to the speed again. He knows he has me, watching with wild eyes as I press against one side of my nose and inhale quickly, knowing what to do simply from TV and movies and the stories I heard in rehab.

He's right...it hits almost instantly, and I'm sucking in a breath, heart skipping as I try to steady myself, and when I open my eyes after a second and glance back at Randy, he's still got that sick smirk on his face as he wipes his hand on his jacket. 

"Good," he praises, and despite the guilt...I feel better...more alive, more ready to finish this and finish it well. "Should give you a kick for about a half hour. Let's get this done, and I'll buy you dinner later."

"Okay..." I agree easily, hands jittery and ready to go back in. "The whole thing," I request quickly. "From the top, I wanna redo the whole thing."

"Oh good, you're gonna talk your whole high, aren't you?" he sighs. "I forgot you're a newbie... Just put it to use and sing instead of talk, got it?"

"Good, got it," I agree swiftly. "Let's go, I can do it in one take. Just one take, I swear. I got this."

One addiction replaced by another...funny how weak I am.


	79. Chapter 79

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder - one more week left on the fan project, so if you wanna get your name on the gift for Robert, check out DucklingFanProject.com! We've raised a little over $900 for charity so far, and that's INSANE!

What happens after recording haunts me all the way up until my trip back to LA, where I agreed to go to a therapy session with Robert before we leave for Napa. He's extremely adamant about it, and I know it's important to him, so I don't hesitate to agree...but other things are on my mind.

Other things like how Randy treated just myself to dinner. Not the crew, not the band, just me. Devin's gone back to LA early, wanting to get some stuff with the house done...probably decorating, if I had to guess. Which is fine, whatever, I've had business dinners alone before, I can handle it. But when he drives me back to the hotel, he leans over in the seat, too close for comfort, and takes my hand in his. I want to jerk back, but I can't. Instead, he's placing something small and soft into my palm, and my breath catches when I realize what it is.

"In case you need a kick when I'm not around," he tells me. "Or if the holidays stress you out. Family drama, right? Consider it a gift from me."

And then his other hand is on my cheek and I flinch, wanting to shrug away, but his grip is cool and strong, and he smirks as I struggle, until he lets me go a few moments later.

"You'll come around," he chuckles, and then unlocks the doors and I glare his direction.

"You're lucky you have tinted windows," I snap. "If the paparazzi saw that, Robert would be on you faster than you could imagine."

"What, and risk going back to jail? Honey, your boyfriend doesn't worry me. Even if he lays a hand on me, what's he gonna do? What worries me is that you forget what you're in possession of there," he says with a nod to my hand. "That, my dear, could get you your own jail time. Could ruin your fun little relationship. But I know you need it, and you know you need it, and we both want the money this album is gonna bring in, so don't start getting all snippy with me here or I'll make sure your career flat lines."

"I don't need it," I growl, but my hand doesn't let it go; it holds on, because my mind is saying otherwise, that I might not 'need' it, but it's been making my confidence so much better and giving him exactly what he wants out of me, music wise.

"Then why are you clinging onto it like your life depends on it?" he challenges, then puts the car into drive, foot on the brake. "Goodnight, Rachel. Don't forget, I'll see you in New York for interviews before the ball drop."

I flush, forgetting he's going to be there when Robert is, and swallow nervously, avoiding eye contact.

"Please don't tell him," I repeat, guilt holding strong in my stomach.

"That's a good girl," he laughs and it chills me, because Robert's the only one I like using that phrase, that 'good girl'. "Give me a good performance in New York and we're cool."

And even a few days later, when I'm in LA, walking off the commercial flight I had to take since Robert's jet is being used by someone on his staff and my uncle took his to New York, where they're boarding a cruise for the holidays, I'm still kicking myself for taking the small dose of coke he pushed on me. It only gets worse when I meet the car Bobby's sent, ignoring the photos being snapped as the driver loads my luggage. I slip into the backseat, sighing when the door closes, and lean my head back as I try to push the thoughts away. Until...

"Welcome home."

I jerk back up in my seat, heart skipping a beat as I realize I'm not alone, and then sigh in relief when I realize it's just Robert.

"Geez, did you really not know I was here?" he asks, amused, but I'm not; I'm trying to push down those thoughts and forget about the label for right now.

"Honestly, didn't look," I sigh, then slide over and lean into him, just wanting to feel him because I know he'll help me get past these demons in my head just by his touch. "Hi, honey..."

"Hi, pretty girl," he hums, hand in my hair as he takes off his sunglasses with his other. "What's on your mind? Bad flight?"

"No," I promise. "Just tired."

"Well, Devin said she saved you dinner, and I can drop you off so you can turn in early," he suggests.

I glance up with a small frown, finally taking in his appearance. He's got a warm hoodie on, his hair's getting long, and his beard a little thicker than usual; it's nice, honestly.

"Spend the night?" I request, and he leans down to kiss me, his lips warm and inviting, just like I remember.

"You sure?"

"Very," I smile, snuggling into him under his arm and letting my hand cup his cheek. "I like this. I like this a lot."

He chuckles lightly, confused. "What? Me? I like me too."

It just makes me laugh in return at his cockiness and ego. "The beard. Reminds me of how fluffy you were for Zodiac."

"Yeah?" he grins. "I can grow it back if you want. I'm not Tony again until the premiere in the spring."

"I like it when you're fluffy," I comment with a dramatic sigh, and he rolls his eyes.

"Just my hair! I'm not fluffy, I'm perfectly in shape."

He has me giggling, and the rest of the car ride home he's filling me in on what he's been up to, as usual; script work...he's run what he wrote a while ago by a producer or two, apparently, and has hopes for it to be picked up for production next year, which is great. I still haven't read it in full, but he promises to give it to me while we're on break to look at.

"So we have a couple days, and then Napa for the weekend, and then we can spend some time with your family and mine in New York after Christmas," he suggests when we make it to the house. "Your grandmother mentioned stopping by in New York, right?"

"Yeah," I agree, realizing I never gave them an answer...I should probably call them and see if it's still okay...not that they're going to turn down RDJ in their home, but you know... "My mom and I kind of do a make shift Christmas the night of. Devin is usually with her parents on a cruise till New Year's, so she's probably leaving soon, I'll have to check. Kind of surprised I haven't heard anything about it yet."

"Got ya. So Napa, Pittsburgh, New York for your family's Christmas, then mine, then New Year's?" he offers as he opens the door and slides out of the car, and I nod, accepting his hand as he leans back in to help me out his same side.

"Lots of running around," I sigh, insisting the driver doesn't carry my stuff in and that I do it on my own. "Don't you do anything for Hanukkah?"

"I consider myself Jewish, don't really care for the holidays," he admits. "We can, uh...hey, why don't we just celebrate early? Do our own thing, in between the two? Then you can have Christmas with your mom on the appropriate day."

Shit, uh...gifts. Right. Ugh, I'm hating my gift to him. What do I get a millionaire who can literally buy anything he wants...including a farm with alpacas, his girlfriend a house, and his own private jet? I have no clue, so I ordered in a custom watch for him, since he has an extensive watch collection, complete with Iron Man details to celebrate the last of his solo films. I have no idea if it's going to do the trick, but it's worth a shot... Guys are tough to shop for as it is.

"You know I don't need you to buy me anything," I point out as we're headed inside, and he smirks, shaking his head.

"Thomas, you'd think by now you'd learn to accept the fact that I don't take no for an answer."

And the way he says it isn't threatening. It isn't like Charlie, or...dare I say it, now Randy. It's just kind, warm, and hinting that he only wants to make me happy and won't let me refuse his attempts.

"Downey," I banter back, carrying my stuff through the door he's holding open. "You'd think by now you'd realize I don't need fancy gifts to be happy."

"I like surprising my girlfriend," he argues, "kind of like this..."

He hits the light switch, only the main lights don't come on, but the decorative lights from Christmas lights filling the room turn on instead. There's lights and garland wrapped around the banister of the stairs. There's a tall tree in the living room in front of the big window, red and gold in theme. There's lights in the shape of candles in the windows, table decorations and stockings by the fireplace. There's hanging lights from the ceiling, making it look like snow. And my mouth's dropped open in awe, taken aback by the beauty of it.

"I had Gwyn do some work while you were gone...with Devin's help. I know she usually has you decorate with her, or so you told me last year," he ventures, taking my hand and wandering toward the living room with me. "But things have been nuts and I know we'll be away but I didn't want you to miss out on Christmas, so..."

"You had her decorate?" I question, gazing around, and he nods, watching as I take it all in.

I've always been a sucker for the holiday decorations. Not putting them up super early like Devin does, not at all, but the way the room looks when just the tree is lit, or the way the snow falls outside with candles in the windows...not that that will happen here, but still. But this...as amazing and spectacular as it is...just doesn't feel like home. At least the tree aspect. It's my ornaments, I realize, as I look closer, but it's not my placement, and ever since I can remember, Devin and I have put the tree up together, on a night where she'd sleep over and we'd have movie night to the glow of the soft lights. But I glance back at him, and he's hopeful, and he tried...he tried so hard, and how is he supposed to know how particular I am? And I appreciate him too much to let him down, so I don't make a big deal out of it. Things are different, and this year it's us celebrating together, right? Time for a change, and Devin obviously approved...

"Is it okay?" he asks, and I sigh, nodding.

"It's more than okay," I answer, cupping his face again as I detach my hand but fall into his arms. "You didn't have to do this."

"I told you the holidays can be more than just a Hallmark holiday, as you call them," he tells me sincerely, his eyes focused and his lips straight. 

"I love you," I sigh, thumb grazing his skin against his face. "I missed you too much..."

"Love you more," he grins, kissing me gently and keeping me close. "And I cannot wait to spend four days alone with just you, the nice weather, and the bed..."

"How about..." I tease, biting my lip, "we go prep for vacation a little early..."

"What, like pack?" he asks, tilting his head, obviously not following. "We have two days to pack. Aren't you tired?"

I roll my eyes, sighing loudly again, this time in fake annoyance. And then I squirm out of his arms, turning toward the bedroom, and that's when he finally gets it.

"I mean sex, Robert. We're going to have sex," I state over my shoulder, tugging my shirt over my head on my way down the hall. "Now get your tiny ass into bed before-"

But I'm cut off but my own laughter as he runs at me from behind and picks me up, arms around my middle. I squeal in surprise, and then he tosses me down on the bed, giggling into my lips when he kisses me again, happy to comply. He's a child, I swear.

And he's a child the next morning as well, when he wakes up and finds me in the living room, spending time with Aero before anyone else wakes up. And I'm toying with the tree, moving some of the ornaments ever so slightly, in hopes he doesn't notice, and it sort of makes it a little more like what Devin and I usually do.

And that's when he walks in, weirdly awake for no coffee yet...but we both slept in, so maybe he's just well rested.

"You...don't like it, huh?" I hear and I close my eyes for a second, sighing before turning around and glaring at the cat at my feet.

"Traitor," I hiss playfully. "You tipped him off, didn't you?"

But Robert only chuckles, sitting on the arm of the couch as he watches me drop the ornament and smile guiltily back at him. 

"No, I really appreciate it," I promise, and I do. "I'm sorry baby, it's beautiful, it is..."

"But..." he offers, searching for more as I make my way toward him and settle myself between his legs.

"But nothing," I swear, and he shakes his head delicately.

"It's okay," he insists. "Devin told me you might be iffy about it, I just thought maybe it would be okay, since this year you've been so busy, and I know how much you love the winter..."

"I just...it's really nice, it is," I sigh, my hands running up his chest to his shoulders. "But it's kind of a tradition, you know? And just something fun to do, something I get to do and be proud of when I see the finished product. And it might not be the best, it might not meet Hollywood standards or whatever, but-"

"It's really okay," he laughs, taking one hand and kissing it gently before placing it back on his shoulders and letting his own rest on my hips. "I'll leave it to you next time."

"It's stupid, I know-" I groan, realizing how particular I'm being, but he hushes me.

"Not at all. It's exactly why I love you. Always happy about the smallest things in life that my dumb ass misses."

"I really love the gesture," I assure him. "I mean that. I didn't expect this at all and it's amazing that you went out of your way to do this."

And that sinking feeling comes back in...that disgrace I was trying to hide since leaving Nashville, and while I'm letting my hands play with his hair, I take a step back, a small one, and admire him in full. I don't know why the guilt is pushing me to this realization, but it is. Maybe just because I'm remembering what I might lose, I don't know...but I'm just looking him over, looking at all of those features of his that I love as if it's the first time I've realized I'm seeing them in person.

The way his hair curls above his ears, but falls in messy, yet visibly soft locks in a waving pattern when it's longer like this. The way his nose curves and his defined cheeks create those laugh lines that connect to his lips. Even the small wrinkles around his eyes, there because of all the times he's been happy, all the times he's smiled. I let my hand wander up and push back his hair, lips tugging up slightly as my eyes dance across his soft skin and his bright eyes, shimmering though dark, and that's when he finally interrupts.

"I love it when you look at me like this," he tells me quietly, and I let myself smile fully at that, still caressing his head as my fingers work through his hair.

"What?" I whisper, and he keeps his eyes on me.

"Like you see me. Not just the face everyone else sees, but me," he clarifies. "Like you love me."

"I do love you," I remind him. "I just realized...you're Robert Downey Jr."

His brow presses together at this, confused yet amused, and he laughs. "That....would be me, yes."

"It's just fucking crazy," I tell him, now grinning ear to ear. 

"Who did you think I was all this time?" he teases, and I shake my head, feeling stupid.

"I know it's you, but you're just so damn pretty," I groan playfully. "And you're here, in my living room, in your underwear-"

"And a shirt. I'm wearing a shirt," he counters, but I keep going.

"-and you just spent the night in my bed, and-"

"Well, yeah," he interrupts again," we had sex, so..."

"-it's just fucking insane. I just have to remind myself sometimes, you know? You're you. You're an actor, a fucking big name actor, and then something like this has you so concerned...and it just reminds me of how human you are."

"Well, yeah, I mean, I'm not an alien or anything. No extra limbs or third eye."

"And you're mine, and you want me just as much as I want you-"

"Or only one eye, aliens can have only one eye, right?" he murmurs, lost in his own thoughts.

"-and it's not even just for fun. You're not just a boy messing around. You're the best man I could've asked for, could've dreamed about having, and yet it's really fucking you that's here with me."

"Honey," he starts, laughing and moving his hands to my arms, looking at me with the most entertained grin. "Please tell me you remember sleeping with me last night. And all those other times. Cause that should be the most concerning thing if you're just having this revelation now, not a Christmas tree."

I cave, leaning in to kiss his cheek and breathe in his scent, leaning into him and resting my head on his shoulder, lips moving to his neck to pepper some delicate, sweet kisses there. "I remember very well."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I laugh, and I can hear his smile as I lean back again to look at him.

"God, I love you..." he whispers on a breath, and still grinning, I press my lips back to his, giggling against his mouth.

And that's when I hear Devin's voice entering the room.

"And this..." she sighs, "is what I have to live with. It's not for show, ladies and gentlemen...they are really just this disgustingly cute in real life. On or off camera..."

"Dev!" I groan, stepping in front of Robert once I turn toward her with shock. "Come on!"

"What?!" she asks. "I was showing off the decorations on your Instagram...still am, actually," she reminds me. "And here we are, coming to the end of the grand tour with the tree, but it looks like we should've plotted some mistletoe here instead."

"That's not funny," I tell her, but it sort of is, and I'm sort of still smiling. "Can you at least let him put some clothes on?"

But he hugs me from behind, kissing my shoulder and making me laugh at the sudden embrace. "Nothing they haven't seen before."

"Yeah, actually, they wanna see again," Devin laughs, and then flips the camera toward herself. "Sorry guys, no can do. Man's taken, and if I keep broadcasting, this may become adult rated."

"Devin!" I yelp again, and she ends it, thank God. 

Just what I need...lots and lots of PDA for the internet when my head's a buzz with this that and the other thing.


	80. Chapter 80

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know his therapist's name but I forget it and don't feel like finding it so whatever, I made one up. Also I'm delirious, haven't slept in like three days, worked 11 hours today, and sat outside in the cold all night with my cat, who's still on her last legs. Ugh, someone cut me a break...sorry this sucks. Also, thanks for commenting, I love reading them..seriously!

"Wanna come in?" 

It's the first I've seen Robert since his session started, and I've been flipping through the magazines in the private waiting room the past half hour. It's weird...being at a place like this willingly. I guess he does more call in sessions while he's gone, but since we're both in LA... It's an upscale place, a place regular civilians probably don't come because it must cost a fortune. Weird...regular civilians. Ugh, I hate how I think anymore.

Anyway, he peeks his head out and I raise an eyebrow, hesitating, and his shoulders drop in silent begging of me to join him, knowing I'm going to try to protest. So I agree with a sigh and fake a smile, following him and taking a seat across from a younger guy with blond hair on the couch next to Robert, folding my hands awkwardly in my lap.

"Rachel, I'm Dan," he introduces, and I nod with pressed lips.

"Hi..."

"Relax a little," he smiles. "This isn't your normal therapy, we're just chatting. Helps clear his mind."

"You know it keeps me in check," Robert agrees next to me, and I inhale, glancing between the two.

"Okay," I answer kindly. "It's just...bad memories from rehab," I admit awkwardly with a weird laugh that makes me regret talking.

But Robert drapes his arm over the back of the couch and crosses a leg over his knee and chills, and it makes me calm down a little. It's so comfortable. Until his therapist speaks again.

"So we only have a few minutes left of this session, but he wanted to get you in here," Dan tells me and I smirk.

"Yeah, he's been asking," I confirm.

"He's got a lot to say about you."

"Well, that's...terrifying," I try to joke, readjusting, and then I feel Robert's hand stroke my shoulder from behind, trying to soothe me.

"I was just telling him we're leaving for our trip," he fills me in.

I nod, swallowing nervously despite his touch. "Yeah, this afternoon, right?"

"Right," he smiles warmly at me, and when I catch his eyes, he's got that light humor and warmth to them that I love so much.

"Are you excited?" the therapist asks, and I answer easily.

"Yeah, of course. It'll be nice to have some alone time."

"I haven't really told her what we're doing, just where we're going," Robert tells him, taking over the discussion, thank God. "Kind of a surprise thing. She's got enough on her plate."

My mind flashes briefly to the bag I packed...which does not include Randy's gift. I might have it in the house, but I refuse to bring it near him...partly for fear that he's going to find it, and partly in fear that if he does, he might go after it. But more so the first. The second is just a bad nightmare, nothing more.

"Right, first couples retreat, huh?" Dan asks, and Robert smirks at him instead of me. 

"Yup. Get my mind off all the movie shit for a little while. Figure we can kind of forget the fame for a weekend."

"Right, like you'll let your ego go," I tease, rolling my eyes playfully, and he lightly shoves my shoulder, and when I look over, he's biting his lip to hold back a grin in amusement. "He's actually Tony Stark. Like, really. Can you tell yet?"

"He's confident," Dan offers, and that makes me laugh.

"That he is."

"'He' is right here," Robert comments with a cocked eyebrow, and that makes Dan move on.

"And you're spending the holidays together?"

"We are..." I conclude, then take a breath and turn to Robert. "By the way, my mom called...she has off more than just Christmas Day so she wanted to fly out here and come to New York with us. Is that okay? We can skip the Pittsburgh stop next week."

"Yeah, we can celebrate our own in Napa," he suggests. "Devin staying too?"

"I think so," I tell him. "She wants to be around for New Year's, too, so she skipped the cruise."

"Sounds perfect," he agrees, hand brushing my shoulder again, and I smile, finally releasing some of my tension. 

"You guys are celebrating Christmas on your own?" his therapist interjects, and Robert shrugs. 

"We celebrate it all, so I think we'll just do our gift exchange over the weekend, in between all the craziness."

I must be fidgeting with my hands a little too much, though, because Dan picks up on it. I guess I'm not completely relaxed...just more so than when we started. My head's sort of still in rehab, and still with Randy...

"You don't seem comfortable with that," he comments toward me, and I blink, putting my attention back on Dan.

"I'm fine," I argue. "I uh...just didn't have a great Christmas last year."

"You sure you're ready to take on the holiday with Robert?"

"With Bobby?" I laugh. "Of course. Thanksgiving was the worst, and I wouldn't have gotten through it without him. So I'm looking forward to it...Christmas, the new year...all of it."

I can feel Robert's eyes on me, his slight tug of the lips as he watches me answer, but I don't humor him with a look over. Instead, I keep my focus ahead and wait for the next answer, realizing I'm not of a part of this than Robert told me I'd be, but whatever. It seems to be making him happy.

"So you see your future, into next year, with Robert?"

"I haven't really thought about it..." I say after a short hesitation, caught off guard by the sudden serious question. "I think...I just assume we'll be together. There's not really a 'what if' in my head or anything."

"What do you think about that? Does it scare you?" Dan questions.

"Me?" I clarify. "...No. I think it if did, I would've realized it before now. With Charlie...he's the guy I-"

"I filled him in," Robert informs me gently, and I frown, not really wanting that out...but I'll accept it for now.

So I go on. "We uh, we could never make plans because I didn't know if he was sticking around...or if I was. And we don't really make plans now, the two of us, but it's just cause we're busy, not because we're avoiding it."

"Right. Agreed," Robert hums from my side.

"Robert mentioned your parents are divorced," Dan goes on.

"Did he?" I repeat, jaw cracking as I finally glance at Robert, warning in my eyes.

But he's quick to calm me down. "He won't repeat anything or judge."

"Right," Dan agrees. "Confidentiality."

I nod slightly, settling down, but still a little miffed that he had to tell him so much about me. Isn't this therapy for him? 

"Yeah," I sigh. "Yeah, my dad left when I was younger, and...it's just my mom and I now."

"And you still want to progress your future in the relationship?"

"I uh..." I stammer, again caught off guard. "Yeah. I mean, it's still early, but I'm happy, so... I'm not gonna plan anything, I'm just sort of letting my life happen."

"But you're happy, you forgive him for everything that happened earlier in the year?" Dan pushes.

"You told him about that?" I ask, turning to Robert, who nods carefully.

"Babe, no secrets here."

And that hurts. That hurts because I know I'm keeping a big one from him. But it will only hurt him, and it's only until the album's recorded and the tour's set up. Only until Randy's satisfied. Then I drop it, then I kick it. It won't even be an addiction, it'll just be a 'if-needed' thing. 

"Hey," he comments, nudging me softly, which brings me back in. "You don't have to push yourself, it's okay. I love you and I'm really appreciative of you trying this for me."

I exhale, letting myself relax a little and nod. "I love you, too. Sorry, I just...have flashbacks to rehab and I'm just trying to stay positive for vacation, you know?" I lie instead.

But it gets me off the hook, and before long we're on the jet for an hour, heading north to Napa. I insist we're forgetting something, but I have the essentials..clothes, which he insists we won't need, toiletries, chargers for my phone, which he also insists we don't need...but I want to make sure my mom can reach me if she needs to, and I mean...I'd love photos, just for us. I agree to lock it in the safe more often than not, just to make sure we're mostly cut off from the outside world, and he, for once, is going to do the same. Thank God for Jimmy and Devin taking over our shit for a few days.

The car ride from Sacramento to the hotel is just about an hour, and he has a driver take us, someone from the company he uses in LA, I guess. I spend it cuddled under his arm in the back seat, and we go over the other things he talked about in therapy, what Jim's gonna do with the animals, and what Devin's doing by herself with Aero. And I wear a smile on my face as I cling to his arm that's draped over me, playing absent minded with his fingers as the realization hits me that it's just going to be us. Just us, with no interruptions, unless we want to go out. And does it scare me? No. Not at all. It should, probably, because it means things are getting serious, but in a way...they always have been. He's been the friend I needed, first and foremost. The ground for me when I think I'm falling, the one who supports me the most...outside of my mother, anyway.

Okay, I'm ranting. Point is, I'm happy, and the sun's just starting to set when we get to the place he's booked; a resort, called Auberge du Soleil, and I can't even stomach how much he must have spent on it. They must be used to the celebrity visits, because even though I'm wide eyed and in awe at how gorgeous everything is, as they take us to our room, they don't seem phased by Robert himself.

But it isn't a room, it's an entire suite, and it's private. It's separate, enclosed and private, and he tips them nicely when they leave us. And that's when I stare at him, eyes huge and a little panicked.

"What the hell," I comment, stepping in and taking it in, and he follows. "You told me this was going to be a vacation, but this is so..."

"Private?" he teases, smirking when I spin back around at him.

"Yeah..."

It's modern style, with wooden trim and neutral tones throughout the space. There's two bedrooms with king beds, though we probably won't need the one. A huge living space with a fireplace and decked out kitchen. Outside, there's a second shower and tub, and I blush at the thought of being naked out there, but there's walls enclosing all but one side...the side that's overlooking the Napa valley, as if there's no one else at this resort but us.

I find myself wandering outside to take in the view, the sun setting to one side that tints the skies a deep red orange, the prettiest of the sunsets I've seen out here, even though there's no ocean below. The air's a little chilly, being more north than LA, but that's okay. There's a hot tub on the other section of deck space, which I'm sure we'll utilize. I lean against the railing at the edge, breathing in the fresh air, and close my eyes for a moment, listening to my wildly beating heart in my chest.

"You're...okay with this, right?" I hear behind me, and it reminds me I'm not alone; I'm just in a trance, in awe at how beautiful everything is.

But he sounds nervous, and I realize I need to say something, reassure him...but I can't quite reassure myself.

"It's stunning," I breathe in disbelief.

I feel his presence at my side as he, too, leans over the railing with his arms supporting him, and the wind furrows his hair slightly, which I catch from the corner of my eye right before I look down at my hands gripping the railing. I don't deserve this... I'm lying to him, and I don't deserve any of this.

And then there's warmth on my hand, as his hand covers mine, and when I look over at him, his brown eyes are narrowed in the slightest, trying to read me. He looks concerned, hopeful...and I'm confused. I definitely don't mean anything bad by this, I'm just in shock.

"Not as stunning as the view I have right now," he answers delicately, and his voice soothes me all in its own. "Consider this gift number one. I know you've had a rough couple years, and I want you to have a break, relax, heal yourself a little."

It's cheesy, but I'll take it. Sort of. I want to, but my breath catches, and it's a moment before I feel a wet streak trickle down my cheek, and I shamefully blink, turning away and stealing my hand back. What the hell am I crying for?!

"Hey," he tries, almost singing it to try to calm my down, and his footsteps follow after, hanging in the air as he strides with my pacing. "Honey, I can change rooms, if you want. Or get a different resort, or we can just go home. If you're not comfortable here..."

"It's not that," I squeak out, taking a few breaths to calm myself before turning back to him. "I've...never been good at gifts. And this is 'gift number one'?" I ask, quoting him. "Robert, what on Earth did you buy me? Because I don't deserve this, even if it were the only gift. This is insane, this place is..." I heave out a sigh. "This place is for models, for actresses, with their award winning boyfriends. I don't belong here."

He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes further. "What the hell are you going on about?"

I guess the drug habit has made me insecure, even just from the few times I've done it. I think it's the guilt eating away at me, but I still can't find it in my heart to tell him about it. I'll kick it. I'll stop, I'll flush what Randy gave me as soon as we get back. He'll never have to know.

So I make up some dumb excuse instead. "You see those models Jimmy knows, or the ones they hire to hand out awards to you at all of those shows. They're tall, they're skinny, they have perfect teeth and perfect hair and perfect tans...just like you."

"I'm not perfect," he tries, but I interrupt.

"This is the most up scale place I've ever been to, even with the stuff my uncle sets up sometimes," I admit quietly. "And I might act all confident when I have to, but I just...Robert, I don't belong here. I'm not-"

"What, perfect?" he asks, and I blink, not expecting him to agree, but he does. "No, you're not."

And my heart sinks. I don't know what I was getting at there, at all, but I think a part of me wanted him to tell me I am. To reassure me, to want me like one of those girls. I don't really know how to react, sadness consuming me, so I stand there like a deer in headlights, confused and silent.

"And honestly, none of them are, either," he goes on after a second.  "They all have issues, but they're hidden for the photos and the appearances.  I do, too.  And you know about most of them.  But shit, Rach, if you were that kind of 'perfect' that you're trying to describe, what the hell fun would that be?  You'd fit a stereotype. You'd be replaceable.  You'd fit the idea of what you think the rest of the world wants, but guess what?  That's not what I want.  I don't need a twig, a blond bimbo, a woman who wants to dress half naked for attention.  You're the perfect weight, in my eyes, complimenting mine.  If you were taller, I wouldn't want you to wear heels around me.  I like that you change your hair so often, and regardless of what you think, your smile is the one thing I think about when you're a thousand miles away and I'm having a rough day.  You're intelligent, and hold a conversation. You're talented, and beautiful, you're empathetic and innocent and crazy sometimes, but in a good way. You're irreplaceable. Point is...you are perfect for me, and that's what matters."

I can't speak, so I only blink down at the ground, taking in what he said. He completely blind sided me with that one, turning it around completely. He's right...I don't want to be the stereotype. I just want to be wanted by someone else.

"I'm not good enough for myself," I whisper, feeling ashamed.

"Rachel-" he protests, but I shake my head.

"No. I'm not...I don't like me. That's the truth. I never have. I think...part of it comes from Charlie, maybe. He probably made it worse, honestly..."

He waits, not sure if I'm going to say anything more, but neither am I. And I look up, eyes dry and confident as I admit that out loud. It isn't exactly what I want to say. It doesn't explain why. But I think he understands, and then he moves to scoop me up in a hug, kissing my head and holding me against him, which I quickly accept, breathing deeply and nuzzling my nose into his neck.

"That's okay," he tells me gently. "This weekend isn't just for a vacation, it's for you. It's for me to prove to you that I care, that I'm here for the long haul, that I'm not about to make a dumb ass mistake again. And it's so I can prove to you how important you are."

And I think something clicks, because I hold on a little tighter before releasing him, then decide to spill my issue with the gift giving thing.

"Last year's Christmas wasn't so bad," I admit, and watch as he lifts a hand to tuck my hair behind my ear as he listens, face straight, yet still handsome as hell. "I was with Devin, away from everything. But the one before that...I didn't go that year, and that was the second holiday after Charlie started..." I sigh. "There was a fight. A hole in my wall, a bunch of broken ornaments from the tree. Ones my dad left...ones that mattered. And you know...he didn't yell, or scream, or continue to hit me, he just...told me to try better next year. That one day I'll figure out how to make him happy. And I tried...I tried so hard, tried for two years to get him something nice, to make Christmas perfect. So as much as I love the holiday, I hate the whole gift giving aspect."

Robert's lips twitch as he takes that in, and there's a moment before he speaks. "You know I don't need gifts. I did this regardless of the holiday."

"And I just want someone to care that I tried," I whisper, hands back to fidgeting in front of me. "I want to feel...wanted."

"I want you," he answers quickly and sincerely. "And I care that you told me all of this, and all of everything else in the past year. I want you to be happy."

I smile slightly, meeting his eyes again, and that's when he cups my cheek and rests his eyes on mine. 

"You remember that night we first met? I took that call and forgot to say bye," he continues and I nod.

"Yeah."

"It was Jimmy calling to yell at me," he chuckles, and I press my lips together to suppress a smile, confused. "He saw the video as soon as it hit the internet, and he watched it once, and called me to tell me, 'don't do it, buddy. I'm not saving your ass if you fall for her.' And you know what I told him?"

"What?" I manage, gaze dancing across his face as the setting sun reflects off of it from the distance. 

"'Too late'."

I roll my eyes, but he brushes my hair back and laughs, showing off those pearly whites I love and those laugh lines that make my own show.

"True story," he giggles like I child. "I swear." And then he settles down, smiling warmly down at me. "Can you do me a favor?"

I nod again, quiet, so he continues his request.

"Just let me care for you, and I promise, one day you're going to see yourself like I see you."

I can't help but smile again, and he hums in content, glad to see me happy. And then he leans down to peck a kiss on my lips, nodding inside.

"How about a glass of wine, we can test out that fireplace?" he suggests, and I let him rest his arm over my shoulder and lead me inside, eager to forget this seriousness and get to spending the next few days finally alone together.


	81. Chapter 81

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: True story of the day... Me, like a week ago on Robert's Facebook: hey dude can you please post some Paul Avery content because you have literally never posted anything Zodiac ever. Today: Robert's team/Robert posts a gif from Zodiac. Me: comments asking if he posted it because I asked. Roberto: gives the comment a heart, despite not liking any comments from anyone in like WEEKS. So that happened. Does that like confirm he was lurking my comments and posted it for me, or?! The internet seems to conclude that. I adore that man, ugh. Also, pointless filler smut for those wanting it. Literally nothing else. Enjoy.

The first day of vacation is the most relaxing day I've had in a long time. And by relaxing, I mean really lazy. Well sort of. There's...activity...but most of it is in bed, lying down. Most of it.

The sun's high in the sky by the time I wake up, and I take a deep breath, smiling as I open my eyes to Saturday morning. I'm on my side, and I remember falling asleep like this. It was the easiest way to look at the stars in the sky out the bedroom's balcony window last night. And now...now the view of the valley in daylight is just as breath taking as when we got here yesterday.

And so is the sound I hear in my ear, the light groan as the body behind me stretches, then pulls me closer to it, heating my naked self with warmth under the sheets. I bite my lip, curling into his touch as his hand runs up my side, just before the wet press of lips grace my shoulder.

"Good morning," I whisper, shuddering when his breath blows gently on the spot he kisses, sending shivers down my spine.

But then his chin rests on my shoulder and I can feel him smile...sleepily, of course. He just radiates that energy...that happiness that I can feel in the air. 

"Good morning it is," he agrees, voice raspy and low and it comes out in a mumble as he nestles himself against me. "I had fun last night."

I blush, squirming in his grasp as I remember our night. Wine in bed, a fire lit in the fireplace across the room, which he must've turned out, or maybe it turned itself out, I don't know. I stopped paying attention the moment he took the empty wine glass from my hand and set it on the table before laying me down. He swore he tasted the wine on my lips, and I panicked for a moment...but a little taste won't hurt him. I know he has the strength to taste the small hint and not want to go back to it, and I'm sure he's taken a sip here or there in the past...he's sober, not completely dry, though he tries to be. Anyway...

I chuckle to myself at his words though, enjoying the quietness in the room. No phones, no busy streets or cars, no rushing around...no...rushing around.

"You know what I just realized?" I ask suddenly, and he hums into my ear.

"Hmm?"

"This is the first time we don't have to go anywhere," I whisper back, closing my eyes again. "I'm not rushing to the studio or back to Pittsburgh, you're not going to the office... We have absolutely nothing to do today."

"Mmmm, I like the sound of that," he sighs.

"What do you want to do?" I ask quietly, realizing I've never had time to just...do whatever I want. 

Everything has been running around. Back and forth to LA, to New York, to Nashville. Back and forth from the hotel to the studio, to meetings with Randy and photo shoots. Trying to find time to talk to Robert on the phone or face time, meet with Devin and go over everything on my schedule, call my mom to catch up. Finding time to even feed my damn cat.

"You," I hear next, pulling me back to the bedroom when I feel lips against my neck, kissing slowly down to my shoulder.

The tickle of his beard is more prominent that I'm used to...this is the thickest it's been since we started dating. And I love it, I really do.

"You already did that," I laugh , shifting to roll onto my back so I look at him.

I love sleepy Robert. Always have. He's so tranquil, so delicate and calm, and so cuddly. His voice is sexy as hell, and he's always so warm...except for his feet, as we've gone over. But today...today they're fine, not chilling me as he tangles his legs between mine and rolls over me, letting his mouth find mine.

I sigh loudly into his kiss, content, and feel myself welcome him in, my arms locking around his back.

"So?" he smiles against me, and that makes me laugh into his kiss until he decides to move to my neck.

"So," I breathe, "don't you think we should-"

"I don't wanna think," he argues. "I just want to love you. Again..." he tells me, nipping my neck to make me gasp and my nails dig into his skin, "and again," another nip, "and again..."

"Something tells me I'm going to be on bed rest today," I manage as he goes lower, that beard of his adding such a new feel since it's more than just Tony's usual scruff. 

And who can complain? I'm not about to say no to an entire day of laying around in bed with Robert Downey Jr. I'm perfectly okay with that. Twice, that morning, to be exact. Nothing super different, but that half hour break between...definitely not enough to clear the stars from my head before he pulls me on top of him for another go.

Finally, at some point in the afternoon, we decide to turn on the TV. It's a nice day out, it is, but I'm used to it, living in California most of the time now. The fun part? I take a nap. The first time I've ever done that, I swear. Maybe not ever, but in a very, very long time. His heart beat and the way he's playing with my hair as he watches some documentary of his relaxes me until I'm dosing off, and when I wake up again, he offers to go out to dinner, just to do something with the day besides lay around.

There's a nice restaurant in the city of Napa, and we dress nice...ish. You know him, his weird sense of style.... He takes a suit jacket with a pocket square and a fedora to go with it, jeans and his silly high top shoes. It's amazing what he can pull off...and it makes my casual dress even looked dressed up.

"So what are we doing the rest of the trip, anyway?" I finally ask after our food is served, and he smirks, taking a bite of his dish. "You told the therapist you had things planned..."

There's soft music floating in the dining room, and lights hang from the ceiling on strings, giving it an outdoors, small cafe feel, even though it's too chilly to be outside right now. It's soft lighting and it comforts me, just like the Christmas lights at the house did.

"Just ideas. No schedule," he corrects.

"Like?" I push with a raised eyebrow, and he leans back in his chair, smirking in amusement.

"You really don't like surprises, do you?" he teases, chewing his bite. "Well...thought we could take a hike or a bike ride...there's a nice park a couple minutes away. They have meditation classes we could try, a couple's massage... I uh, well, I did set up one thing," he admits.

"What?"

"I asked one of my photographer buddies to stop by on Monday...if that's okay."

"Photographers?" I repeat, blinking. "Why?"

"Well..." he muses, picking up his drink to take a sip, and that gleam in his eye is dangerous, I swear. "We're...serious, right?"

I nearly choke on my bite, forcing it to swallow and take a loud breath, staring at the table instead of him. "I, uh...I mean, yes, but...why?"

"I don't have much press until April, and I know we'll be in New York, but it isn't quite the same," he answers, and when I look up, his dark eyes are watching me carefully. "But if we're headed where I think we're headed-"

"Where's that?" I nearly whisper, feeling my heart start to skip, and he chuckles, the cocky ass getting me worked up as if it's part of his plan.

"Toward a future," he answers vaguely, waving it off. "I thought we could have some nice photos...of us. Personal ones, you know. Not paparazzi photos, or whatever. You can release one or two, if you want."

Oh. Okay. Calm down, Rachel. This isn't some secret plan to ask you to marry him...again...or something. Not that that's a bad thing...is it a bad thing? Not in theory. But to me, it's questionable. Not him, but the idea of marriage, still. Fuck, why do I care so much?

"Sure..." I finally agreed with a small nod. "Yeah...that sounds...nice. Is that the big present you're hiding?"

"No," he laughs, shaking his head. "No, I thought we could exchange tomorrow night? Since we'll be headed back late Monday..."

I agree to that, feeling a little better. "So there is a big one?"

"There's...maybe," he settles on.

That sort of maps out how things will go from here on out. Weather permitting, of course. But uh...let me explain the night first, because my drinks at dinner make me a little ballsy, and I have quite my own bit of fun.

We stumble back in, or I do, him helping me with his arm around my waist and his other hand in mine, and then before he kick off his shoes, I'm shoving him up against the door, taking him by surprise. My hands are on his collar, pulling him down to meet me as I kiss him, sloppy and wet, but he only groans and responds just the way I want, one hand finding my hair as the other pulls my waist against him. He moves his hips against me, and I accidentally bite his lower lip at the contact.

And that's when he lifts me up, tapping my ass first to warn me before hoisting me into the air and locking my legs around his waist. His tongue finds mine, twisting and slipping through my mouth as he carries me to the bedroom, but he doesn't set me down on the bed, thank God. Instead, he lets me stand, and I go to work on his clothes, stripping him quickly and efficiently, despite how ragged my breathing is between kisses. 

"I love this, I do," he speaks against me when I push his boxers down, "but wanna slow down a little?"

"Why?" I breathe against him, sucking on his neck instead of he's going to keep talking.

His hand finds my zipper on my dress, regardless, and then he's dropping it to my ankles. Revealing...nothing underneath.

"Holy...fuck..." he growls with a husky tone as he lets his hands feel me up, his eyes closing at the feel of my lips near his ear. "How...all night?!"

"Don't look so shocked, Mr Downey," I murmur, stepping back and pushing him toward the bed. "Consider this gift number one..."

"Could you like...tell me next time...please?!"

He swallows under my kiss, and it gives me confidence. A confidence I haven't had since that first time I took advantage of him in Atlanta in the spring. And that confidence allows me to push him down on the mattress, letting myself fall over him, straddling his waist.

"Rach..." he groans as I let my kisses lower. "Babe, you're drunk."

"Not completely," I disagree against his abs. "Now hush or I'll make this difficult."

"Make what dif-fuck," he curses when my mouth finds him, taking him in and sucking slowly up, apparently catching him off guard.

And that's when my eyes flicker up as I start working him, and his head's back, his hands clenching the sheets as he focuses. One eventually finds it's way to the back of my head, tangling in my hair and helping me move. It's been a while since I've tasted him like this...since I've done him any favors, and he is very appreciative, judging by the sounds he's letting go as he slips a moan and a grunt.

After a small bit of pride flows through me, I add my hand, and pick up my speed, intending to make him release before sex, and he starts to panic. His legs twitch, the first sign, and then his hand tightens, trying to slow my movements, but I gaze back at him, eyes locking with his when he lifts his head from the pillow, and they're dark and wild and conflicted.

"I want you to come," I tell him lowly, mouth full, and he growls in a blissful agony, cursing at the ceiling.

"Fucking shit... Fuck, fuck...." he swears, loud, and shortly after, he's tensing and gasping for breath, releasing for me.

And I'm drunk enough to swallow again, licking what I can from him.

"Just uh..." he sighs, laying back after a moment. "Give me a sec, and I'll-"

"Nope," I counter, sliding back up him and letting my hand trail through the hair on his chin, loving this softness. "It's my turn."

"Your turn for-"

"Give me your hands," I whisper, feathering my lips against his when I lean down to answer.

I swear his eyes turn black, his breathing hard, but he lifts them, offering them to me, and I steal his shirt and jacket from the floor, reaching blindly for something to help. And one by one, I lift his wrists and use his clothes to secure him against the head board, one hand on either side of him. I tug when I'm done, making sure they won't slip too easily, and then I smirk down at him, loving the thirst he has plastered on his face.

"I fucking love you," he pants, way too excited for his own good. "I haven't, uh... Twice, never twice so close together, so-"

"Stop talking," I interrupt, and he nods.

"Okay. Sorry. No talking, got it."

"That's still talking," I point out, and he presses his lips together, humming instead to hold in his comments as he waits.

And hell, am I into this as much as he is. Acting before I convince myself it's a bad idea, I slide my waist up above his shoulders and say words I never thought would ever leave my mouth...

"If you can't keep quiet," I decide, bold as ever, "then put that tongue to good use."

I don't know what the fuck's gotten into me, but I squeak when he lifts his head off the pillow, reaching for my center between my legs with his mouth and succeeding, and that's when I feel warm...too warm, blushing madly as I grip the headboard to hold myself up. He's teasing, but he knows exactly how to get me there, and fast, and my breath catches just a few minutes later when I feel that bliss creep in and take over, and that's when I stop him. 

"Okay," I heave, lifting myself away and trying to cool down a little before picking it back up. "Okay, not yet."

He licks his lips, hands grabbing the clothing that's holding him to the bed as if his life depends on it, and he looks like he's struggling, chest rising and falling strongly.

"You know," he says, clearing his throat as his eyes dance across me, "I know I had to do this for a movie, but that was just sitting around. This is a lot fucking harder than it looks."

"Really?" I comment, glancing down at his hips. "Because it looks pretty hard."

"Rachel!" he snaps, resting his head again for a second. "Come on, let me help you."

"What, and let you loose?" I ask, holding him in place and teasing him by pressing down on what he wants just lightly. "I intend to..." promise. "Just not your hands."

So I sink down, taking him in full, and move my hips over him, doing the work while he can't. Yeah, we're still kind of...without. And this is gonna be messy, but..whatever. We have two beds, right? Might as well utilize the other one.

"Babe, you gotta listen to me when I'm close," he warns, and I lean down, silencing him with a kiss.

"I know," I promise, hands finding his cheeks as I work myself over him, making him grasp at the ties harder with each time I sink down. "I think I like you like this," I whisper into his ear next, taking the bottom of it between my teeth and playing with it. "Helpless, mine to play with."

And that's not a lie. He's showing off those arm muscles with each twitch, each time he tenses or shudders. His pecks are on display, and his abs are working hard as his breathing becomes ragged. It reminds me a lot of Sherlock, just like he brought up, and that is perfectly okay with me.

"Jesus Christ..." he hisses through clenched teeth and closed eyes. "When did you start talking dirty?"

"When I started dating you," I breathe, feeling close, myself. "Not every day you get RDJ tied down to your bed."

"Uh," he grunts, sucking in a breath when I let his ear go and go back to his neck. "For you, it is."

"Not tied down," I correct, picking up my pace as I ride him. "And now you can't do anything but let me take you."

"Fuck," he swears again. "This isn't fair."

"Fair? How about this for fair...you've already had one and I've had none," I remind him. "So you better let me come before you go a second time."

"Come on," he pleads, tugging at his ties again. "You can't do that. I'm close already, I..."

"So get your hips into it," I suggest, and then take his mouth again in a messy kiss before pushing back up, leaving us at a ninety degree separation.

And that does it, pushing me just over the edge until I slow to a stop for a second before moving off of him. He whimpers, so I lay down next to him, claiming his lips with mine yet again, and my hand wanders down, gripping him and tugging trying to finish him off quickly.

"Holy shit..." he gasps, lifting his head as his body shakes. "Shit, Rach, God..."

And the second one hits with a loud groan, and then he's falling back into a sweaty heap as he releases onto himself. I grin, watching, until he starts breathing again, peeking an eye open at me for mercy.

"I can't...I can't do anymore," he insists, shaking his head. "Good gift...thank you..."

"Yeah?" I smirk, and he nods quickly.

"Yeah..."

So I untie his hands before leaving the bed, giggling as I toss a roll of toilet paper out at him from the bathroom. 

"Clean up and come join me!" I yell after it.

It's only been one day, and we have two more to fill...Lord help us.


	82. Chapter 82

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Good news? My cat is eating a little more...doing a little better. But she's old, so...I don't know. Also, LAST TWO DAYS to get your name on Robert's shirt that we're gifting him! We hit our goal tonight and I am STUNNED! So far, fifty four shirts have been sent out, and that is just INSANE to me! Check out DucklingFanProject.com for more info.

The rest of the trip is laid back..but my mind's on Christmas. I'm nervous, and I'm still trying to guess what he's giving me, but he refuses to tell. I only have to wait one more day, right? Just one, and then we'll share at dinner, he suggested.

There's a bike ride the next day, with rented bikes on the Silverado Trail. It takes most of the afternoon, and I'm exhausted, but it's our last full day since we're not staying tomorrow night, so I agree to a massage he sets up for the two of us in room...on the deck, actually. And I'm shy about it...I don't ever do these things, so being naked on a table, regardless of towel, is a little uncomfortable. What's more uncomfortable is the fact that he has a female message therapist, as do I, but I know she's supposed to be professional. Still...it's weird seeing her touch him like she does. All in all, it relaxes me for the first time in a while, and I feel completely new and refreshed for dinner, which we dine at the resort, at their restaurant.

It's dark, and we're seated next to a fire, and he even lets me share a desert with him, the first time he's caved off of his diet to let me get whatever I want and split it, and he jokes about one of his co stars on Jon's movie with me while he takes a few bites, laughing and staring at the plate with his cheeks revealing those nice, white teeth. He's adorable, somehow switching sexy off and turning cute on in just a moment.

Not that sexy doesn't exist...cause it does. And it does that night, when he orders a second desert to take home, hot fudge and whipped topping and all...to eat another way. He's excited they pack it separately, and he's even more excited when he has me blindfolded on the bed and he drizzles it onto my stomach, letting his tongue follow to eat it off of me. And I've never been one to play with my food, but the way he delicately teases me with his mouth is new and exciting...especially with no sight, and I don't even mind going to bed sticky, because...well, because the gift.

"Don't go to bed yet," I hear after we've both caught our breath and settled into a warm cuddle under the sheets.

"But I'm so relaxed," I sigh, my body feeling loose.

It's that feeling after a beach day in the sun, and you come inside and cool off, take a shower... That one where the air seems fresher and the couch...or in this case the bed...feels softer. Where you don't feel any stress and you could nap for ages...sort of that feeling, though I don't mind falling asleep in his strong arms right now.

But his facial hair tickles my shoulder as he kisses lightly from behind, then stretches the other direction, taking the sheets with him and I groan. I shift onto my back, following his reach, until he returns after digging something out of the small drawer to the table at his side; he must've hid it from me, the little shit.

And then I sit up as he hands me a book, tied with a ribbon, and I accept it, though I'm confused.

"What is this?" I ask, feeling the soft suede of the cover under the bow; it's brown and has a snap, and it's square in size.

"That..." he tells me, watching as I toy with it. "If your gift."

I blink, eyes on him for a second, staring at me like a lost child as he waits for me to open it. So I do, tugging the ribbon till it lets loose, and I wasn't expecting this, honestly. I was expecting something huge, something expensive...but it's...a photo book?

In the front, there's a pocket with a key attached, and for a second I panic, but realize it's a car key with the Audi symbol on it, and I trace it lightly, stunned.

"Robert," I start, but he hushes me.

"That's just a bonus. The book's the real gift...the car's...another gift, in LA..."

"You got me a car?!" I yelp, waking up well now.

He shrugs. "Just thought you were tired of using my old one. But I'll show you that when we get home. For now..."

He nods to the book, so I flip to the next page, and there's photos. Of us. Photos of us from the Iron Man set. Photos of us from Sherlock, and the parking lot from April when he kissed me for the first time since rehab. That one is the trigger, so I whip my head back up to him in question, jaw slack as I try to figure this out.

"How did you..." I whisper.

But he's quick to answer, flipping the pages for me to go through all of them...ones I've never seen, or never knew were taken. Ones from the live video feeds...that Jimmy took. Jimmy!

"Jim documents a lot of shit," he tells me. "And he gave me all of these photos and videos and shit," he adds, pointing out on of me touching the suit that he's in on set. "I can buy you a thousand cars, but I know you didn't have many of these..."

"I don't have anything except our few selfies and the paparazzi," I agree.

"Right. Well, this is for you to take with you to Nashville. Or when you go on tour or I go on press. You can keep adding to it, there's room at the end."

And then he flips to the back cover, revealing a disc that's attached in a slip.

"And this is where I put all the videos," he reveals.

"Videos?"

"Of us. The live streams, the time I kind of told you I love you and then pretended I didn't..."

I can't help but giggle at that, but then I close it with a sigh, not sure how to respond. I love the gift, I do. It's heart warming, and personal, and it isn't just something his assistant tossed together... But mine's nothing compared to this, and now I feel guilty.

"What, don't like it?" he asks, but I shake my head.

"No, I love it," I breathe, trying to assure him. "I just wasn't expecting-"

"Something that didn't cost a fortune?" he chuckles. "I mean, the car's part of it, so I covered all my bases."

"The car's unnecessary," I remind him. "But thank you...really, I mean that. I am going to take this everywhere, because I miss you a lot when you're gone..."

"I know you do," he confirms. "And I miss you. I might've used these to get me through a couple rough days..."

"Really?" I laugh, biting my lip, and he nods.

But then I shift out of bed and lay the book down in my bag, keeping it safe, and dig out the small watch box of the one I had designed for him. I carry it back to bed, holding it out, wrapped and all, and he accepts with a smile.

"I'm sorry," I sigh. "I told you gift giving is hard for me, and you're kind of hard to shop for with how impulsive you can be..."

"I'm sure I'll love it no matter what you got," he promises, tugging the paper off, and then opening it to reveal the watch itself. "And I'm right, look at how pretty this is!"

"Did you just call a watch pretty?" I laugh, and he nods. 

"Gorgeous."

"I suck, I know."

"Uh, no," he disagrees, taking it out to try it on despite us going to bed soon. "I fucking love this, and the fans are going to love this..." He smiles and looks over, leaning in to steal a kiss from my lips. "Merry Christmas..."

"Happy Hanukkah," I counter with a smirk, then kiss him again, and everything feels good.

There's no pushing to 'try harder next year' and no doubt. Even if I doubted how much he liked it, he was kind, he was appreciative, and he meant it. And I can hear it in his voice, feel it in his touch as he cuddles me back into bed, saying goodnight.

On Monday, we wake up early for a meditation course, which reminds me a lot of the yoga session he made up with me at my grandmother's in the fall. It's chilly and I need a jacket, but still nicer than winter weather in Pennsylvania. I guess I'll miss it, though....I always loved a White Christmas, and it definitely won't be white in LA...but maybe New Year's!

Anyway, after that, his photographer and a stylist show up, so they get us ready for photos, which he wants to take outside, and they're tame...they're just cute, the nice view from the porch, him in a white t shirt and jeans,and myself...in just a button down shirt of his. I know I'm awkward when I step out, my hair curled lightly and draping over my shoulders, and the idea of no pants is a little...risky, but it feels as long as a dress would be, so it's not terrible. He wants to border sexy, ever since he saw me in his shirt that first time in Atlanta, I get it...

There's photos of my sitting on his lap on a stool, ones of him standing behind me with his arms wrapped around me. A couple kisses, him carrying me piggy back...and we're told we'll get the photos back in the upcoming weeks. It reminds me of the ones I took with Randy...they should be in, but he's probably waiting until after the holidays to go over them with me.

And that also prompts me to look at the week's listings of tracks on the top 40...I've been quietly watching each week since the single was released, but it hasn't gone much of anywhere, until now.

Christmas morning I decide to look, but not right away. I'm woken up to a kiss to my head as I shift, realizing my arm's across his chest and my head's tucked into his shoulder. We're back in LA, and my mom arrived last night, Devin greeting her just before we made it back. 

At some point after they'd gone to bed, I snuck out the balcony to make my yearly wish on the reindeer. And don't laugh - it might be a childish thing, but every year I've done it. And last year...last year it came true, and I'm not skipping out this time.

"It's getting cold inside," I hear behind me from the open door of my bedroom; he's staying the night, having the holiday with me here. "What are you up to out here?"

His feet echo on the deck, and when I look back, he's holding his arms over his long sleeved shirt and pajamas pants. I grin, embarrassed, as I hold out the bag of oatmeal and glitter.

"Sprinkling...reindeer food..." I mumble, and he blinks, face straight.

"You're so fucking weird."

"I'm weird?!"

"Yeah."

"Hey, last year my wish came true!" I argue, though I know he's teasing.

"You wish on feeding deer?"

"No, I actually hate deer," I inform him, turning back and tossing the last of it out into the hillside below. "My number one fear."

"You're...afraid of deer?" he smirks, finally breaking character when I come back inside with an empty bag. "Like the fuzzy four legged creatures that eat plants and prance through forests?"

"No, the horned beasts that charge you when you run into them in your yard," I correct. "It's a long story, but we don't have a good history."

"Right. Makes sense. Deer. Huh..."

"Don't start with me, Downey," I sing, pulling back the bed covers to get into bed, but he hesitates on his side, watching. 

"What'd you wish for?"

"This year?" I ask, then shake my head. "I can't tell you. Wouldn't come true."

"What about last year?" he asks instead, and I swallow, thinking.

"Last year...last year, I just wanted to be free...free from him...happy."

And thankfully he accepts that answer...until morning, which leads me back to where I was.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," I hear Robert whisper, his chest rumbling and his voice deep, and when I glance up, I smile, closing my eyes again, content. 

"Is it the big day already?" I tease.

"It is..." he grins, and then I realize he's on the phone, looking at an article. "And yet another present...congrats, you're number nine on the top forty this week," he tells me.

"Holy shit," I whisper, grabbing the phone and sitting up immediately. "Holy shit, that's my name!"

"That's your name," he grins. 

"And this...this is from this weekend?!" I gasp, still staring as I get up and start pacing, and he nods.

"It is," he confirms. "Along with the article about us having dinner in Napa, apparently we're engaged."

"We're-" I snap back, forgetting the charts immediately. "We're what?"

He shrugs, yawning and getting out of bed since I am. "Apparently a nice vacation means wedding bells. Don't worry, ignore it and it'll die down."

It kind of makes me feel bad, crushing the little bit of hope he has, but we have things to do and he insists he's fine, so I let him shower as I get dinner started. Even this early in the morning, I'm getting things ready... He wanted to cook for my mom and Devin, and they're still asleep, but the ham cannot wait! Plus, his weird diet has me scrambling to add some healthy dishes that he can eat, as well, which is gonna take all day.

I reveal the news when my mom wants to check out my new car after the grand tour of the house she didn't get the night before, which Robert had waiting at the airport for me to drive back yesterday, and we celebrate by opening the wine early. It might not be a number one hit, but Devin's convinced she can make it happen. Maybe...maybe that shit with Randy and everything will be worth it, if it's getting me a chart topper? It just isn't settling still, though...me, on a top forty list?! My whole life I've wanted this, and it's happening. ...On second though, maybe I need to start listening to Randy's advice and take on the new year strong.. 

But I shake those thoughts from my head when Devin insists we open gifts before dinner, so we do just that. It isn't a big event; Robert and I already exchanged, so it's just a gift from my mom to us and Devin, a gift to Devin and my mom from me, and of course, Robert had to go nuts getting them stuff, too. 

My gift to Devin are tickets to see her parents for the spring, since she's missing out right now. My mom's is a mounted copy of my EP, which she's been asking for to show off, and I've upgraded her phone and gotten her a wireless charger for it, since she hates having to replace the charges when the cords get caught. Now she can face time me and not worry while I'm away.

Devin's gotten me some toys for Aero and a new Pens jersey, and my mom's gifted me clothes, per usual, and some things for the house to decorate a little more. She insists this is for Robert, too, but it's okay. How am I to expect her to know what to get him? I didn't even know.

And then Robert's gifts to them...paying off my mom's car and an iPad for Devin, since she's managing everything now and can't keep up. It's a big relief for her, so even though it's financial, I'm happy he wants to make her life easier. That, if anything, is what I want to do now that I have money after all these years of being broke.

"Is that it already?" my mom asks. "When did this get so under whelming?"

"You literally just got a free car!" I laugh, "is that not good enough?!"

"That's not what I meant!" she says with a roll of her eyes. "We just used to spend hours opening gifts...now it barely takes ten minutes!"

"Actually..." Robert hums, fishing out another gift from behind the chair. "There's one more for you."

"What?" I ask, puzzled. "From who?"

"Me," he shrugs. "I know we said we'd have our own gift thing to split the holidays, but-"

"We already exchanged gifts," I remind him.

"Think of that one as a decoy gift," he offers. "I mean, I still wanted to give that to you, but this is the real one."

So I take it after another moment of hesitation and glance warily around the room at my mom and Devin, accordingly. It's a small gift, about the size of a piece of paper, and flat, too. And he's wrapped it in brown paper, his delicate writing of my name on it, and I really don't want to damage it. I decide to carefully tear the packaging and slide the contents out, and that's when I stare at it in disbelief.

It's a book, as if I couldn't guess, but the front of it makes my heart stop and my breath catch on a sharp inhale. It's familiar...a children's book, titled Mama Cat's Year. The baby blue outline stands out in my memory for the hundreds of times I must have read it as a child. My dad got me my own copy when I was little, and read it to me before bed. It's the only thing I hold on to...although the book was sold at a garage sale by accident when my mom had taken some stuff to my grandmother's to put out. I haven't seen a copy since.

"Oh my God..." I finally breathe, shaking my head as I trace the cover. "I loved this book as a kid... My dad..." I sigh, remembering one of the only happy memories I have with my father before he left. "My dad used to read this to me every night."

"Open it," Robert suggest, nudging me, and that's when I notice how silent the room is.

I look up for a second, and Devin seems to know what's happening. My mom is confused, though, and leaning over with interest. Robert's got an intense gaze as he waits for me to do as told, so I finally swallow nervously and open the cover.

And in the front, on the other side of the hard cover, there's an inscription that I guess I blocked from my memory.

Happy birthday, little mouse. Love, dad.

Holy fucking shit. Holy...this...this is the book. This is the book. My book, the one that we lost, the one...that he gave me. Little Mouse, the nickname he used to call me because he knew I liked the gray cat and the gray cat reminded me of a mouse for some reason.

I can't hear anything except the beating of my heart as my eyes start to water and my emotions kick in. I can't believe this...this...was supposed to be lost, long gone...yet it's here, in my hands, and it even has the crease I remember on the first page that they wouldn't have known about if they tried to replicate it.

Slowly, my hands cover my mouth as I stare down at it in my lap, and I can't process or function. And that's when my mother grabs it from me to inspect it, and I sit there like that for a moment longer before wiping a tear from my eye and silently getting up and dismissing myself without another word.

"Babe?" I hear Robert call after me, but I'm currently unable to calm my reaction and I know in a matter of seconds I'm going to start bawling my eyes out, so I hear toward the bedroom, hands still over my mouth, and stare at the wall.

How the hell...how the hell did he know? He could've gotten me anything. Literally anything, even a damn island if he wanted to...and he knew just what to get me to tug at my heart.

"Rach?" his voice calls after a light knock on the door frame, and I quickly hiccup and sniffle, clearing my eyes.

"Yeah?" I ask, carefully trying not to turn back to him just yet.

"I'm sorry," he tries, softly and it hurts because I'm not upset or mad at him, I'm just... "I thought it'd..I don't know, I was just trying to make you happy. If you don't like it-"

"No," I hush, forcing a smile as I finally turn to him. "No, it's okay."

"You're crying," he points out, looking concerned.

But I don't even try to hide that at this point, and instead, I toss myself at him, pulling him in for a big hug, my chin on his shoulder as I squeeze my eyes shut and hold onto his neck.

"I love you," I promise through a cracked and emotional voice.

His arms find their way around me and I can feel his warmth surround me as he sighs. "Love you more."

"No, I seriously fucking love you," I squeak out.

"Okay..." he chuckles. "I seriously fucking love me too."

But I ignore it, squeezing him tighter as I try to stop my crying and focus on his feel, his scent...his voice. "No, you don't understand..." I heave out, hand finding the back of his head to rest in his soft hair. "You don't understand how much I fucking care about you. How much you mean to me, how god damn lost to you I am. I have never, ever had anyone try to know me well enough to gift something like that. I have never had anyone go to the lengths you must have gone to to find that, to give me back something I thought I'd never see again. I've never been so fucking happy in my life, and it's all because of who you are and what you do for me and everyone else... You are perfect. You are this image that I had in my head of what I thought you'd be like, and so much more beyond that. You are so fucking perfect it hurts, and I am the luckiest damn girl on this Earth." I take a deep breath, nuzzling my wet nose into his neck. "You have my heart, Robert John, completely and indefinitely and words will never be able to express how I'm feeling right now, but I promise you, I love the book."

And then it's silent, and I breathe slowly to try and stop my crying while I hold onto him, and I feel him shift, tightening his grip around me and kissing my hair at the back of my head before he replaces his chin on my shoulder. And we stand there like that for what is probably several minutes, until I decide to push away and dry my eyes, looking up at him as he keeps his hands on my hips for good measure.

"How...how did you find it?" I finally ask in a whisper, meeting his warm, brown eyes. "How did you even know?"

"To be honest...I didn't know what to get you. I mean, I could've left it at the car or the trip, whatever," he answers, delicately watching me as his thumbs draw circles on my hips. "But that was just buying you something. I didn't want to just buy you something."

"But how..."

"Devin mentioned it. And so I asked your grandmother for a hand, turns out she remembered who she sold it to, they donated it to a library after their son grew out of it, so I called the library who had no issue trading it for an autograph, and here we are," he explains. "I guess I should've thought about it a little more..."

"No," I reassure him, shaking my head with a sigh. "No, please. I love it, I really do. I...That book was one of the last good memories I had with my dad. When my mom got rid of it...I think I cried for like two weeks."

"And now I've made you cry again," he frowns, but I chuckle.

"Happy tears, I swear..." I promise, and then pounce on him with another hug. "God, Robert..."

"I love you," he states, as if he's never said it before, and I close my eyes, squeezing them shut to try not to cry even more. "Merry Christmas, baby..."


	83. Chapter 83

I was in the middle of writing a fluffy chapter for you guys but now I am currently at the ER. My mother had a mild heart attack. No updates yet but she's awake. Please send prayers, and I'll update when I can.


	84. Chapter 84

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Mom's back from the hospital but a long road to recovery from here. Still gonna be super busy helping out. Anyway...TBH I should probably separate this into separate books at this point, cause we're going on 400,000 words, which is insane, but whatever... Also, I really like these next like three or four parts... Idk what I wrote either so like sorry? Oh, and the fan project wrapped and we raised over $1,025, so if you participated in that, thank you!! Jimmy saw our wrap up video, too, so I'm pretty hyped about that.

Sometime after dinner and some wine and chatter in the living room, Devin and my mother disappear to bed. The electric fire is lit in the darkness, providing heat, and the lights from the decorations give a warm, soft light that I love. This is the kind of holiday feeling I adore. The kind of comfort that makes me want to cozy up and relax. It nearly gives me chills, especially because throughout our evening talk, I've been sitting on Robert's lap, sideways, with a wine glass in one hand and the book in my lap.

The book was passed around again after desert. My mom can't believe it. She seems okay, despite the memories she has of my dad leaving. Maybe it's because I'm so happy, I don't know. Devin's proud of herself, and she's off of her phone for once as they talk about stories of him when I was a baby that I don't really remember. All I remember are flashes of being tucked in at night, and a big bouncy ball we played with in the kitchen on a few occasions. No clue why those things stand out, but that's what I have left.

But I'm not focused on the talk, much. I'm focused on how Robert's smiling through each one, completely focused on them as his hands subconsciously secure me on his lap, one on my lower back and the other on my thigh, rubbing circles into the muscle I'm gaining there. I'm leaning against his shoulder, listening to his heart beat, soft and steady, and every now and then, his torso shakes with laughter. He's warm, and the sweater he has on with the hood over his shoulders is like a puffy blanket, even just under me. And lord...do I love listening to him talk when he asks them questions. 

But when they retire, it's quiet, and once we're alone, his arms wrap around my waist, holding me close to him as I settle into his body. After a few moments, a hand lazily travels to my hair, stroking slow, soft brushes through it in a calming manner.

"What's on your mind?" he asks, his deep voice low in my ear.

I sigh, repositioning against his chest to snuggle closer. "You."

He huffs a small laugh and kisses my head, taking a deep breath. "Great minds think alike."

I can't help but roll my eyes at his cockiness, despite being used to it by now. "You seemed pretty buddy buddy with my mom today," I comment instead.

"We're both so busy, we don't normally have time to see family...I just wanted to keep up the good impressions," he tells me honestly. "Was it too over the top?"

I shake my head slightly. "No, you were perfect. As always."

"And you wonder where I get the ego from," he teases.

"If anyone's allowed to boost it, it's me," I remind him, taking one of his hands and kissing the knuckles delicately.

He watches, eyes bright, but doesn't make a joke this time. "So on a scale of one to 'oh my God Robert', how was Christmas this year?"

"You're ridiculous," I giggle.

But I'm happy. And I lean forward to set the wine glass down on the center table, then I open the cover of the book in my lap, looking at that inscription again, and quietly flip through the other pages, remembering each and every photo. The one of the cat sledding with the kids, the one of it hiding in a tree and sleeping on the boy by the fireplace... It's like I'm five again and just reading this for the first time.

"It was perfect," I admit, smiling a genuine smile down at the pages. "I don't know how you did it, but everything is perfect..."

He waits a moment, hesitating, before asking, "Rach, what exactly happened to your dad?"

I frown, sighing. I've told him before that he isn't around, but didn't really ever tell him about the rest. It's something I just don't think about often, honestly, and the bad details of it didn't actually come up tonight, either.

"I told you the truth, when I said he left when I was younger...and I really haven't seen him since," I start. "He uh...well, he left to go back to an old girlfriend. And never said anything, just...left. I don't remember it much; I was too young. But I just got used to not knowing him or where he was. Neither of us really knew, or at least she didn't tell me."

I sigh, kissing his hand lightly, then go on.

"A couple years ago, my mom happened to run into his brother...we don't really talk to him much, that's another story...but turns out he was in a motorcycle accident about ten years after he walked out. He didn't make it."

I feel Robert place his lips on my hair again, leaving a lingering kiss there as he tightens his hold on me.

"It's okay," I reassure. "I barely knew him, anyway. Just sucks sometimes, you know?"

"I understand," he agrees. "I'm sure you know all about my dad issues...not quite the same, but I know how it feels to feel unwanted."

"I want you," I whisper, placing another kiss on his hand.

He chuckles lightly against my hair. "Well that's good, cause I want you, too."

"See, we don't need our parents," I joke, but then... "Do you think he'd be proud of me?" I whisper awkwardly.

I've never been one to use that word - 'proud'. It isn't something I've heard often, and it isn't something I use often. That'd insinuate people actually cared about anything I do, so it never made sense. But now...now I've done things with my life, and I'm starting to wonder...

"Hell yes," Robert answers without missing a beat. "I know he would."

I sigh, smirking sadly as I scold him with my eyes. "You have to say that, you're my boyfriend."

"Mmm, right..." he groans, leaning in to place a few kisses against my cheek.

"What?" I ask, feeling hurt if I upset him somehow?

"Boyfriend..." he murmurs into me, "we should change that."

"W-what?" I cough out, not expecting that.

My heart flutters as he laughs lightly, quietly in the dark room, lit only by the lights if the Christmas decorations still. This time...this time it doesn't scare me. I'm not really...certain, but I'm not scared.

"To what?" I breathe, stupidly asking; what the hell, Rachel?!

He brushes my hair back and moves to my neck, delicate and soft. "Fiancé?"

I must tense, despite my thoughts not being negative for the first time ever, because he giggles and then backs up.

"I'm kidding," he informs me, but something...something just doesn't seem like he is.

"What?" I repeat, like an idiot; apparently that's the only word I know right now.

"I know you're not ready," he smirks, hands running up and down my back for comfort.

But as if I'm in my own little world, completely not thinking with my head, I blink at him, holding a breath.

"Ask me," I whisper, eyes connected with his dark ones and unwavering despite my rapidly beating heart.

"No," he counters, kind but firm. "And it's not because I don't want to," he adds.

But it still hurts a little bit, and I try not to be offended, but we had this talk. We had it in LA on Halloween, and I had it with his dad before Thanksgiving a month ago, and now he doesn't want to ask? So where does that leave us?

"I told you when you asked for real I'd say yes," I tell him, trying to keep my voice steady, but he remains calm, picking up my hand and kissing the knuckle of my ring finger, which gives me chills.

"I'm not asking," he repeats. "I don't have a ring."

"So we'll get one-" I protest, but again, he's persistent.

"I'm going to marry you one day, Rachel Thomas," he promises softly. "One day when you don't have the nightmares anymore...when you see yourself the way the rest of us see you. I don't have a single fucking doubt about that anymore. But you even told me you don't know if you want to get married, and that wasn't that long ago."

"I..." I manage, but he's right; I'm just being a girl, too invested in the current emotions. 

"We have all the time in the world, why rush?"

I finally look away, feeling dumb now...great, why am I pushing him? But wait, he brought it up, didn't he?! No, he must've been playing on my love for the holidays, just wanting to make it better for me... Or maybe he's trying to get a feel for where we stand now...

"Hey," he sings delicately, dropping my hand to lift my chin back toward him, sending my discomfort. "I love you, and that's what matters, isn't it?"

So I sigh, nodding slightly, trying to mask my feelings. "Love you too," I smile back, even though it feels fake right now; why'd I get my hopes up in the first place?

"All right," he sighs, making a quick decision to take the book from my hands and set it aside, on the back of the couch.

Then, he lifts me in his lap, turning me so I straddle him and face him, placing my arms over his shoulders even though I suddenly become a rag doll in his grip, not feeling the mood anymore...but that's okay, it's after midnight by now, so Christmas ended well, right?

"Let's just go to bed," I request, trying my best to sound okay, but he's not buying it.

"Talk to me, pretty girl." His thumbs rubbing circles on my hips. "Do you really want to rush into things?"

"No..." I admit. "No, I don't know what's gotten into me. I'm sorry..."

"Christmas is too cliche," he chuckles, "it should surprise you."

"I'm surprised that I'm even dating you," I remind him, and he smirks at that.

"Come here," he offers, eyes on my lips, and I know what he wants.

So I tell myself I'm being stupid and try to push it down, leaning forward to meet him in a soft kiss, which he draws out, holding me close and setting my body on fire with his touch. Even now...even when my head's full of a million other things, I take him like the drug he is to me and melt into him, letting him take away this mood at least for right now. I have too much to be excited about in the next week...and he made the holidays so much more enjoyable. So I find myself swiveling my hips in a circle over him, making his lips twitch up against mine in amusement. A low growl follows from his throat, and I want to react...but there's footsteps coming from the stairs and the voice I hear next makes me detach almost immediately, fumbling to get out of his lap and straighten myself up.

"Rach, you still up?" it yawns, and that's when I realize my mother's in the fridge.

"Uh, just going to bed," I mumble in response, but she's not stupid.

"Keep your clothes on until you get there, please," she teases, shaking her head with a smirk of her own.

But I'm not good at holding my feelings in, I guess, and that becomes apparent when we're on the flight to New York, when he's taking a nap in the booth with his hat down, refusing to go to the bed since Devin, Aero, and my mother are also on board. His legs are over my lap, using me as a foot rest, but I don't really care; he's too small to be heavy or bothersome weight wise.

"So your mom told me she walked in on you two going at it," Devin laughs once my mom decides to start a book on tape to listen to from the other side of the jet. 

"On Christmas?" I blush, knowing exactly which day she was talking about. "It was just a kiss..."

"Not what I heard," she teases. 

"It was," I promise. "We haven't uh...we haven't really had sex since our trip, actually..." I admit, realizing how weird that is; it's been about a week now.

"So?"

"It's...unusual," I frown, glancing at him as I massage his shin with my hand over his pants. "Not that I need to sleep with him every day. Just feel like he's upset with me."

"Upset?" she asks. "How the hell is he upset, the man just went out of his way to make sure everything was perfect for the last week."

"I know...we just...had a discussion that didn't really end well. Not bad, but not well. Kind of up in the air, actually."

"Another fight?" she groans, sitting back in the seat across from me, and my lips twitch.

He looks so peaceful when he's sleeping, even with the hat over his face. He's comfortable, relaxed...none of his muscles are tense right now. And honestly, he makes a nice blanket of sorts, sprawled out across me. Is it weird to say I love how tiny he is? I love how tiny he is, I really do. I love the fact that I can hug his full waist, wrapping my arms completely around him when I want to. I love the fact that he's so light that we can lay like this without him crushing me. I don't know, it's just...cute. And now it makes me feel good and bad at the same time...good because I'm starting to realize I don't see a life without him right now...and bad because I don't know why we're fighting about something so stupid.

"Not...actively fighting," I shrug. "We're fine, I just feel weird."

"About?"

"Marriage," I admit quietly, not wanting to wake him. "I've been thinking about it and maybe it wouldn't be so bad..."

"Like now?!" she asks, completely consumed as she shoots up in her seat again, stunned. "You haven't even been dating a year!"

"Eight months," I point out. "Almost a year. And he's almost forty nine..."

She shudders dramatically, all for show, and I roll my eyes. "I keep forgetting the difference..."

"I never think about it," I tell her truthfully.

She blinks, deciding to move on because she knows I'm snippy about that subject. "So...you want to get married?"

"He made a joke about being my fiance instead, and I just...thought he was going to ask, but he didn't, but he said he would eventually, and I'm just confused," I ramble. "It's like he wants to move forward, but he thinks I don't... I don't know why it bothers me."

"You've...talked about it before?"

"Vaguely. He was in one of his moods and asked me on a whim but I told him not till things settle down and...they're not really settled yet, but I get the feeling it's an excuse now...a reason to wait it out until he decides if he wants to leave or not."

"Give it time, Rachel," she tells me, basically repeating what he said. "I've never seen someone as patient as he is with you, he's not going anywhere."

I know she's probably right, especially with the gifts and the retreat...but maybe my second guessing is causing him to take a step back and re analyze. I'm constantly telling him I don't deserve him or anything he gives me... Maybe he wants me to be confident, but I just can't. I'm getting there, but only with the help of Randy's secret medicine, which he can't know about. It's all fake. Once he realizes that, even if he doesn't find out about the drugs...will he want me? I'll never be the kind of confident he wants.

Anyway...I put on my best smile for him regardless, but I guess I'm not my usual happy self, despite my song bumping up to number eight this week. Since landing in New York, he's been off, himself, and just moody in general. To be fair, the therapist has been helping and it's been a busy week, so I brush it off and try not to make things worse with my own mood. It's just awkward and I feel guilty...

But after dinner with his parents one night in New York, we return to his house; we aren't putting all four of us at his dad's, so we utilize the windmill home that I was always so fond of...there's just enough spare bedrooms for the two of them, and Aero's taken a liking to the room he has at the top of the tower. That's when I finally suggest calling him.

"Have you talked to Dan lately?" I ask, pulling back the blankets on the bed after getting ready in the bathroom.

He's fumbling around in the closet, looking for pajamas he wants to wear, and isn't quick to respond.

"Bobby?"

"No," he answers plainly, then sighs a heavy sigh. "I'll call him tomorrow, babe."

"Okay," I agree quietly, sitting on the mattress as he pads out in bare feet, pajama pants, and a short sleeved shirt. "You just seem down."

"I'm okay," he tries to assure me, but he sinks into the bed and turns out the light, laying on his side and facing the wall.

I have that weird feeling in my gut, butterflies in my stomach - not the good kind -, and I feel a chill cross my body when he dismisses me like that. We never go to bed angry, right? Isn't that what he said on Thanksgiving? But he's not even saying goodnight, a first for this week. The past couple of days have been minimal touching, no sexual tension, and the kisses seem...off. But he's happy around his family, he's happy around mine... I just don't get it.

"Are you mad at me?" I ask, feeling too awkward to lay down and attach myself to him this time.

"No, Rach," he answers, but it definitely sounds irritated, which only fuels my annoyance.

"Well, it doesn't sound like you're not mad...not even a goodnight?"

So he sits up, leaning over to lazily place a kiss on my lips and then says goodnight, falling back down onto the bed in silence again.

"Really?" I ask.

"Not tonight, Rach," he sighs.

"Not tonight what?" I ask, and my blood is starting to boil. "You're obviously mad about something."

"Go talk to Devin about it then," he mumbles into his pillow. "Like all of our other personal conversations."

"What are you talking about?"

"Maybe she'll propose to you faster," he grumbles, then tugs at the blanket like a child.

I swear I can't handle this right now. He has these little immature spouts, these stupid issues that he doesn't talk about until he holds them in long enough that it makes us argue, and I have enough on my mind right now. Tomorrow I have New Year's Eve interviews. The next day rehearsals. The following day is New Year's Eve itself.

"You were listening to us?" I snap. "You told me you were taking a nap."

"I woke up," he answers as if it's common sense, "to you bitching that I didn't get down on my fucking knee for you on Christmas."

"That is not what I said!" I gasp in shock that he's being so ridiculous. "You beg me to marry you, I tell you I'm not ready, and then when I am ready, you say no. Seems like something's not okay with us. And I can't tell my friend this?!"

"Telling you I'll marry you one day isn't enough, though?" he follows up with, and then groans into his pillow. "That's the opposite of me leaving."

"Kinda of hypocritical," I toss back. "And all I said was I feel guilty for what I said!"

"Okay, fine," he finally growls, sitting up violently and glaring at me in the darkness. "Marry me. Come on, let's get engaged, right now. We'll go to a courthouse tomorrow. Elope. Sign the papers and be done with it."

I clench my teeth, hands balling into fists at my sides. "That's not-"

"That's not what?" he smirks, but not the good kind. "Not good enough for you either?"

I let out a frustrated growl of my own, and deciding not to take this further, I tug the top blanket off the bed and stand, going for the door.

"See you in the morning," I snap over my shoulder.

But as soon as he realizes I'm opting to sleep on the couch, he's sighing, calling after me.

"Rach...Rachel, wait."

So I take a deep breath before turning around to him pulling the sheets back and patting next to him. His hair's in his face and his eyes look sad, even from here, and it kills me. It kills me enough to toss the blanket back at him, still with a little attitude, and climb back into bed, laying down on my back to stare at the ceiling as he repositions the blanket over us.

"Come here," he requests quietly, and soon after, his arm's slipping around me and tugging me onto my side to face him.

I want to roll my eyes, to protest, but he's quickly placing a genuine kiss on my lips, which forces me to relax and calm down; he just has that effect.

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against mine with closed eyes and sighs again. "I'm scared too, ya know..."

"Of what?" I ask voice cracking slightly after the arguing. 

"Taking the next step," he admits. "I've got a bad history with relationships and I don't wanna fuck this one up, so I don't wanna move too fast. But I'm not leaving, I'm just trying to figure out what's next for us. So if you can be patient with me-"

"You don't have to-" I sigh, trying to stop him from making excuses, but he continues anyway. 

"-then we'll be fine. You were right on Halloween, I was being a little too eccentric. And I was teasing you on Christmas, I didn't expect..."

"I'm sorry," I whisper, ducking my head a little in shame. "You're right, let's just...let's just enjoy what we have. I told you marriage wasn't in my future anyway. It would just mess us up, like it does everyone else. I don't know what I was thinking..."

"That's not true," he promises. "But you know we still have shit to handle together first..."

He's right, so I take a deep breath and nod silently until he kisses my forehead.

"Sorry I was being an ass... You still love me?" he asks after a moment, and I nod again. 

"For some damn reason I think I always will," I try to joke, and that's when he pulls me closer to snuggle into him and I can almost hear his smile.

"You're stuck with me," he tosses back, and that's fine...it'll be fine.


	85. Chapter 85

In the morning, I'm alone in bed when my alarm goes off. I'm used to it; he's been ditching me all week. I feel stupid after last night...after everything this week. The second things are going well, I gotta fuck it up, right?

But whatever. I go for a change of clothes and put on some makeup and grab my bag and hope there's something quick in the kitchen to grab and eat...hopefully he still has some of those protein bars I bought last time I was here.

Thankfully, he does, so I grab a cup of coffee and sit against the counter top in silence until the sliding door to the porch sounds and in strolls Robert in his pajama pants and big fluffy coat and beanie, protecting him from the chill of the cold outside.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," he mumbles when he notices me, and I know why as soon as he approaches.

"Did you go back to cigarettes?" I ask, setting down the half empty cup as the waft of stale smoke drifts off of him and hits my nostrils, even across the kitchen. "I thought you quit?"

He hasn't had any the entire week and a half we've spent together so far, that I know of. And come to think of it, I haven't seen them at our visits for a while, either. And suddenly they're back, after we fought.

"I still have one every now and then," he tells me, but I sense it's a lie.

But I don't push it, because I don't want to keep fighting. I just feel bad, feel guilty as if it's my fault he's smoking again. The stress of our arguing apparently pushed him back.

"You're ready to go already?" he observes, pouring himself his own cup of coffee, and I nod, finishing mine off. "All right, uh...let me get changed and I'll call a car-"

"No, it's okay," I insist, though my gut's in knots. "It's just a few interviews, I've done them before."

"Yeah, but in the city?" he questions. "Before New Year's?"

"They're gonna be doing a ton of planning," I remind him. "I won't be the only celeb there, and Randy will be with me."

"Celeb, huh?" he asks with a cocked eyebrow, his brown eyes curious behind his coffee mug as he sips at it again.

I fake a smile at him, admiring the fact that he still hasn't shaved his beard off or trimmed his hair. It's a mess, but a mess I like, even if my mother was teasing him about it a few nights ago.

"My mom needs someone to hang out with aside from Devin," I offer. "Spend the day with her? For me?"

"Are you sure?" he frowns, but I hold steady, nodding. "You still want me on New Year's Eve?"

"Yeah," I rush to agree, "yeah, of course."

And I give him a small kiss goodbye and take my own car into town, meeting Randy at an office before we head toward the news studios.

The label has me lined up for a small segment on Good Morning America, but it's pre taped, so nothing big; it will air on New Year's Eve. There's a couple head shots for the adverts at the beginning of the television broadcast that I need to do after that, and then a few radio interviews. And all of it is fine...or it would be, if it wasn't for the guilt I now have over Robert smoking again. And I know my nerves will show and Randy will scold me, so before I meet up with him at his office, I dig urgently through my bag, remembering the small amount of powder he had given me before. I'd left it in this bag at home for our vacation, but brought it to New York on purpose, just in case my nerves got the best of me. Which they do now...until I dish out a line on my hand and breathe it in, enjoying the small rush that lets me forget my relationship issues for a half hour or so.

It lasts me most of the day. I take a hit before going into the office. Another before the GMA interview. Another before the promo shots... And I know what you're thinking, that's a lot, isn't it? Remember, this is spaced out over the span of the day, it's not like I'm going overboard. Just...making my high last. Keeping that bit of confidence and energy I need while I'm on camera...and skipping for the radio interviews that I'm used to.

But the next day isn't as easy. It's rehearsals, and they want me to record a small video saying happy new year for their commercial intermissions, only Robert's there...and so is Devin. And I can't ask Randy for a refill...I used it up the day before, and he'd only push it on me more. That was it. One bag, and now I'm quitting. Right? Right.

Thankfully, Robert's grand idea is to join me for the new year's shout out video, which provides instant comfort. Devin watches, so I have backup against wanting to take anything. 

It's simple, really. Just a short shot of the two of us reading a sappy script.

"Hey guys, it's Rachel Thomas," I'm told to say. "And this is Robert Downey Jr, and we wish you all a happy ending to 2012."

And then it's his turn to speak. "May your new year be full of fluffy dreams and spirit and happiness," he grins softly, and I laugh, looking over at him, off script.

"Fluffy?" I giggle, and he beams back at me, and for some reason, they keep that in the part they play on TV, I later find out.

Anyway, rehearsals are in a studio, with a small box taped off to represent the size of the stage. There won't be much room to move, but that's okay. I'm playing the single the first song, and the second, one of the others that we decide will make the cut from the EP, wanting to re release it: Ghost.

And I'm clean all day. Robert's here and that's okay. But New Year's Eve itself...no.

But it's not what you think. It actually has a fun twist.

After a dinner with my mom and Devin the night before, we had come back and had some wine to help me sleep. Robert had been kind; no sex, still...and I still feel a little off. But he soothes me into sleep either way, ensuring I get enough for the big day.

Which leads us to the afternoon, when I'm packing a few things for the night, including a pair of gloves, my coat and hat, and some leggings for underneath, once I change out of my stage clothes for the ball drop. It's chilly out, and the chance of snow, and I'm thrilled. I haven't seen snow since last year when we were in New York, and all I want it to enjoy winter like I used to before we go back to LA or Nashville or where ever.

"Babe, have you seen-"

"This?"

"Yeah. And the-"

"In the bag already."

I sigh thanking him and taking it from his hands. "Okay. Okay, I'm sorry, I'm just really nervous..."

"Take a breath," he offers. "I'll be fine."

"This is just my favorite holiday, and-" I start to ramble, and he hushes me with a finger to my lips, then rests his hands on my shoulders. 

"I know it is," he promises. "And you get to experience it in the fullest tonight. Just enjoy it. I'll be with you."

"Not on stage," I counter, which makes him smirk. 

But he's right. The chill of the wind downtown is unreal, and the way the voices from the public floats into the dark sky when I arrive to the 'backstage' of the studio. I'm already hyped, the excitement in the air getting to me.

There's an interview inside when I change into my sequin dress, some boots, and a long, dangling necklace with a key at the end, something the wardrobe pushed on me; a live one for the beginning of the broadcast at about eight when they start. Robert is waiting with Devin and my mom, and Randy has yet to show up. Thank God he's been okay with me so far this weekend; I've been secretly panicked over whether or not he'll let something slip to Robert about the drugs when they finally do meet. I mean, they've met before, but not since that talk in Nashville...

But Robert isn't in the room when he slips in and gives me a pep talk before I'm about to be escorted to the main stage in Times Square. Robert's been told to stand back with Devin, which is fine; we'll meet back up with him for the ball drop. But for now, I'm on my own, and just as if he knows...

"Here," Randy states, pulling a pouch from his jacket pocket. "Need a refill?"

"Just...for tonight," I agree, no part of me saying no at this point. "Just for the songs, I can't be high around Bobby."

"Right, the boyfriend," he muses. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna tell him. You did your job. And having a song at number five and going up, I'm not about to complain. Just wait till you see your cut for the first month. Payroll's due."

I watch as he dishes out a line on his hand and offers it to me. "How much?" I ask dumbly, leaning down to take the hit before he responds, sighing when it relieves me.

"Five figures, just the song. Wait for the album drop and marketing will do a hug push, you'll be topping seven in no time. Told you confidence sells."

I blink as the adrenaline hits me, as if the numbers mean nothing anymore.

"You ready?" he asks, and I shake my hands up, popping up on my heels.

"Yeah," I agree quickly. "Yeah, good. Good, let's do this."

And I won't bore you, but the first performance goes well. The second I'm announced, the attention is on me, and the coke dulls the nerves and lets me embrace the stage. It's fucking freezing, just over 25 degrees, Fahrenheit, and I'm in a damn knee length dress that only has sleeves, a hat, and some gloves, but I'm promised to be rushed back inside between songs to warm up.

The crowd is bigger than I could ever imagine; a sea of people, going out for as far back as my eyes let me see under the big city lights from the electronic billboards. They radiate energy back at me, which only fuels me more, and though my normal band isn't backing me up on this one, everything seems so in sync. The crazy glasses, the horns in the streets, the drinks in the air and the chatter when we end and I take a bow...it's crazy, all of it. It's surreal...magical. If only the forecast was right and it did snow...but there's still stars in the sky right now.

I'm helped off stage and immediately taken to an interview alongside the street, where I meet one of their reporters for a quick Q&A.

"Hi!" they celebrate, after I'm handed a coat and ushered in front of the cameras.

People are in the background, trying to get on camera, but I don't let it distract me. I'm thrilled to be here, realizing that everything I'd ever hoped Times Square would be on New Year's Eve, it is. A big party, a big, happy celebration...somewhere the nightmares won't follow me.

"Hi!" I greet back, shoving my hands in my pockets and hopping on my feet to warm up.

"I know you must be freezing-" she starts.

"I am!" I laugh. "But it's worth it."

"-so we'll make this quick, but...this is your first New Year's in New York, I hear! Is that right?!"

"It is," I grin, nodding. "I'm so excited, you have no idea. Everyone talks about awards and albums and everything when they tell you why they want to be a singer, but my dream was always playing here, tonight, on the biggest night of the year!"

"And we're so excited to have you! You're playing one more later in the show, in about an hour before the ball drop," she reminds everyone, myself included. "So I won't catch you again, but I have to ask everyone tonight, who's your New Year's kiss?"

"My boyfriend, I hope," I joke, biting my lip.

"Which would be the handsome Robert Downey Jr," she announces, and I roll back on my heels and grin widely, trying to be cute for publicity.

"It would. I didn't even have to ask, he arranged his schedule to be here with me."

"He's here?!"

"He is. Inside, with heat," I smirk.

"Right," she laughs, "and a beard that could act as a blanket."

"It's not that long!" I chuckle. "I like it, just as long as he keeps it tame."

I must shiver, though, because then she's waving me off playfully. "Go, go! Go get inside and keep yourself warm!"

Robert tells me I kicked ass when I make it back inside, but my high is wearing off. I let it go until just before the next one, and repeat, and then we have a half hour to kill before the count down starts. I have enough time to change out of this silly dress and into something comfortable, with a heavier coat and softer boots to keep in the warmth. Robert's got a long coat on with a scarf, his own gloves, and a beanie on, as per usual, and he's holding me against him from behind me as we stand in a circle and chat with Devin and my mom outside on one of the balconies.

I'm content, his arms around my middle and mine holding onto his as I lean my head back with closed eyes, chiming into their jokes very now and then while Devin tells a story about some new guy she started talking to...it didn't last, though; it was just a couple day fling and a ridiculous text thread and she's upset she isn't going to have a New Year's kiss this year, but as my manager, she wouldn't miss something this big for anything, so she lets it go. Plus, my mom doesn't have anyone, either, so it isn't like she's going to be alone.

But I don't miss their eyes wen I do flutter mine open, watching me with a good humor. This is the first time Robert's been okay with the PDA like this in a week...it's almost as if all of our problems have vanished, but I know he knows how much this holiday means to me, and he's already promised to make it spectacular, a while back. So he's not going to pick a fight, and neither am I.

And then we're minutes away from the countdown, and he spins me around in his arms to hold me against his chest, mine sliding up and around his neck for balance. There's cameras on us, flashing back and forth on TV, or so I'm told, but I try to ignore them as much as I can.

"Any requests for our second year together?" he asks, smiling dumbly at me.

I shake my head after a moment. "Nothing big," I answer over the loudness of the crowd below. "Just to have a third."

"And a fourth," he agrees.

"And a fifth..." I murmur, but then realize there's something hitting my eyelashes, so I look up, and low and behold... "Bobby, it's snowing..." I breathe, grinning open jawed into the air.

Just like I said...it is magic, I swear. This night, the atmosphere, the energy and the lights, and now the snow. And he's watching me, eyes as delicate as the last time we had this exchange in this city, and he doesn't miss a beat before speaking the words that make my heart flutter.

"Snow still makes me happy," he replies, eyes locked on me as if I'm the only thing around, despite the madness going on.

So I keep my focus on his eyes as the crowd starts to count down, well aware of the fact that they're gonna show us on TV, but whatever. And then they count down the final digits, and my gloved hand reaches his cheek as I stand on my toes to meet him in our first kiss of the new year...the first new year's kiss that actually meant something to me.

He's slow and careful and isn't shy about slipping his tongue in, despite being on national TV. And the music mixed with the snow and now the celebrating and the confetti falling around us has me in a trance, wanting time to stand still so I can kiss him in this moment forever.

Eventually we have to break apart, though, and his covered hands squeeze at my hips as he grins down at me.

"Happy New Year, crazy," he tells me, speaking over the music, and I peck one more kiss against his lips before returning his smile.

"Happy New Year..." I sigh, leaning against him and laying my head on his chest, ignoring the cameras in our presence as they film.

He easily holds me in a warm embrace, welcoming the warmth from my body as I hug his waist.

"I love you," he tells me, and then kisses the top of my head.

I close my eyes, relaxing. "Love you more."

This is everything. Regardless of our issues and the small fight we got into, this is perfect. This is something I've always dreamed about, getting to spend New Year's in Times Square, celebrating, with someone I love. I never thought it'd be with the fame and glamour, though. That is definitely unexpected. But so is Robert. Last New Year's we barely talked. And then after everything this fall, I honestly wouldn't have expected to be in such a good place with him. But here we are. Funny how things can change so quickly.

"So there's something I wanted to ask you," I hear, and then Robert's gently asking me to back up so he can see me as he takes my hands in his.

And I catch his eyes, tilting my head in confusion. Is this good or bad? Those words usually mean bad. Right? Unless...

Shit, it's New Year's Eve. He knows how much I romanticize this holiday. And...we're in New York, and...after that fight... My heart starts pounding, hoping to God he doesn't drop down on his knee right now. It would be a guilt proposal, right? Doing it because I asked him to, not to surprise me. No...nope, can't happen.

"So, I know things were kinda rocky there for a while and it might be too soon, but-" he starts, and I'm staring at him with straight panic, I just know it. "What?" he asks suddenly, confused by my expression.

"I, um..." I manage, turning my back to the cameras. "This is so sweet, it is, and I love you so much, but we just talked about staying slow and-"

"Right," he interrupts, suddenly awkward. "No, no, we shouldn't rush, it's okay. I just figured since you pretty much already live with me, it would just make sense, and-"

"Wait, what?" I ask, and the embarrassment is creeping through me already.

Of course he wasn't talking about proposing, he was just... God damnit, Rachel. He just wants you to live with him. Holy shit, he wants you to live with him?!

"I was...gonna ask you to move in with me..." he answers sheepishly, dropping my hands to take my necklace out from under my coat, holding up the key at the end in the palm of his hand. "This is to the house here...just a symbol, cause I know there's gates and stuff... But it's cool, it's all cool... You know, we can just keep doing the long distance thing...well, if you still want to date..?"

I press my lips together and close my eyes, internally groaning. Stupid. Why would you assume... This is so sweet; he hid it from you all damn night, moron! You were literally wearing the key to his house all night...he had this planned, he...

"Yes," I answer quickly. "Yes, yes, I would love to move in with you."

"You would?" he asks, and he sounds lost.

"Yes, of course!"

"What did you think I was gonna say then?" he asks, and I feel my cheeks heat up even in the cold.

"Well, I um...wasn't really sure," I lie. "I just didn't think this..."

"I told you, just be patient with me while I figure out what's next," he requests.

"This is next," I sigh, pressing my lips together to hold in the millions of emotions inside right now.

He always has a way to kill me like this. Always has a way to show me I should've just relaxed. I trust him, but every time he does something like this, I forget how to breathe, but I remember why I love him. Him him, not star version of him.

"We're gonna live together," I add, finally letting the smile out as my eyes search his and I let me hands reattach to his cheeks, holding him in place.

"Any house you want," he hums. "Just as long as you're there in our bed at night."

"'Our' bed?" I repeat, biting my lip. "You've only said that once before..."

"And this time it's official," he concludes, leaning down to steal a kiss, and as he does so, he's hugging me tightly against him even though the music has long since changed and the snow has long since been forgotten, replaced by this incredible start to the New Year and proof that New Year's Eve can go well.


	86. Chapter 86

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wrote a ton of this ages ago and can finally piece it in, so enjoy an extra long chapter of random shit. Literally everything you can imagine in here. Have fun and sorry?

"I got us a hotel you can two can enjoy your first night at home," Devin had teased, somewhere around three when the city finally started to filter out a little bit.

I did nothing but blush, giving the two of them a hug and promising to meet them at the airport in the morning for our flight back to LA. Randy's only given me those few days for Christmas, and now it's back to work on the second, but that's okay. I have things to be excited about now; a tour, a music video...it all needs planned, which means no more Nashville for now.

Anyway, that's the first night, er...morning?...that we're intimate again since before Christmas. He has a car drive us back while he sits with his arm around me in the backseat and my hands playing with the key on the necklace I'm still wearing, despite changing out of that awful dress. He's placing feathery, breathy kisses on my cheek and forehead, keeping close without rising the heat between us yet.

But when we get to the house, there's not much hope. He leads me in and I'm beat, so we immediately head for the bedroom. Tame at first, until I realize he's tossed glitter on the bed and floor, like the confetti downtown. There's a rose lying across the comforter, and it's delicate and beautiful, and I'm just...so tired...

"Did you do this?!" I ask sleepily, trying to sound as excited as possible, because I truly am.

"Would've been weird if you said no, right?" he muses behind me, voice raspy and deep and I can sense how tired he is, too.

"I'm glad I didn't," I huff in amusement, yawning, and that's when he hits me from behind, lazily falling against me and wrapping his arms around me.

"Welcome...to your new New York home," he whispers, then kisses my cheek, and I wrinkle up my face in reaction, biting my lip to try to hide my grin. "I'd say let's christen this place...but-"

"Maybe after a nap?" I guess, and he nods into my shoulder.

"Being out in the cold like that hits you hard," he sighs, and I chuckle.

"Tell me about it..."

There's a week where I stay at my old house in LA after the new year, packing up boxes for the move with Devin and my mom. She's headed back to Pittsburgh after helping me get situated, and even she can't believe I'm going to be living with a movie star now. Despite how comfortable she is around him now, it's still weird...for both of us sometimes.

The day she leaves, I have a meeting with Randy to go over tour ideas...we have to pick out a stage and a wardrobe and a set list. It'll be a small stadium tour, since I don't have much to go on yet. It won't be announced until after album sales start in February. I only agree to the stops as long as they put Pittsburgh on the list, and he accepts...after offering me a hit of a much needed energy boost after a tough week of long work days and even longer nights making sure all of my stuff makes it into boxes, as if I couldn't just get it from Devin later on, I don't know.

Devin's sad as hell to be living alone, and she's begged me to keep Aero for a little while, but I miss my baby boy, and Robert's embraced the idea of having a cat a the house, so he is definitely coming with me. But when I get to his house on Friday for dinner before starting to move my stuff over on the weekend, I get a surprise instead. He meets me at the door, not letting me past the door, which is the big tip off.

"Close your eyes," he asks, and I do as I'm told as he carefully leads me by the hand inside the big Malibu house.

"Should I be worried?" I joke, hesitating with each step.

I hear the door close behind us when my heels click on the wooden floors, and then I feel the familiar turn to the hallway leading to the master bedroom. So, he's got me blind and taking me to bed...all this for sex?

"You know, you could've just told me you were in the mood to be kinky tonight," I tease nervously, wanting to peek an eye open.

"Just relax," he hushes in my ear, and then his hands meet my waist as he slips behind me, and a bright light is turned on somewhere on the other side of my eyelids. "Okay...you can open them."

I blink slowly, adjusting to the light, and realize we're in the big master bathroom, the beige tile radiating from the dropped lighting above. "You...wanna have shower sex?" I guess, raising an eyebrow. "Or you need to pee, I can't tell, honestly."

He chuckles, turning me toward the mirror and the double sinks...and then I notice it; my stuff, my makeup, my toiletries, my straightener...all lined up next to the sink on the left, the one I've gotten used to using.

"Is that my stuff...?" I ask quietly, turning back to him.

"Jimmy and I brought it all back to the house during your meeting," he informs me, wrapping his arms around my waist and laying his chin on my shoulder, watching my expression through the mirror. "Devin helped unpack."

"You...why?" I ask, oblivious.

He smirks. "Welcome home, babe...our home."

Once it processes, my lips tug up in a smile, and my shock is obvious. "You...you moved me in?" I whisper.

He kisses my shoulder and nods. "I know we talked about doing it tomorrow, but...most of your stuff has migrated here already anyway..."

"You're really serious, huh?" I ask, meeting his eyes in the mirror. "You really want me to live here?"

"You think I was joking before?" he asks, raising an eyebrow in question.

"I just...I can't believe it."

I really can't. The house is huge. Honestly, it suddenly hits me that this is going to be my life. This...the public eye, the big homes and fancy cars, not having to worry about money issues...

"Robert, this is too much," I whisper again, turning in his arms to face him. "This...I've never had a house this big, ever."

"Well, get used to it, cause I'm giving you the keys to all three," he grins.

"But I didn't...this is yours, you earned this, not me," I argue.

"And you're my girlfriend. This is all yours now, too....including the bed," he adds, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Which...we should go break in...you know, just to make sure it's still okay..."

I can't help but giggle when his lips meet my neck and he starts feathering kisses down to my bare shoulder. "You're gonna be the death of me, Downey," I groan.

He smiles against me as he lowers his hands, and when they meet my ass and squeeze, I can't help but jump, pressing myself further against him. Then his teeth graze my skin and I realize he's working a spot I'm going to have to cover on my shoulder while I'm distracted.

It doesn't take long to get heated. He's quickly pinning me back against the counter, pressing his newly formed problem against my hip. Slowly, his hands slip to the zipper on my dress, tugging it down my side and letting it fall before lifting me and placing my ass on the counter so I'm sitting.

"Robert," I gasp when the cool stone meets my bare skin, but he doesn't falter. "This isn't the bed," I point out, struggling to find air, and he laughs.

"We'll get there..." he murmurs, letting is hands reach down to his pants so he can step out of them.

I watch as he distances himself from me, struggling to tug his shirt off. I can feel my heart swell a little at how much he wants this...us. It's been a while since we've been this...needy...and the fact that he put all of this effort into today is giving me hope that we can work through whatever the hell happened between us before. He still wants me, and I still want him.

"You okay?" he asks when he finally strips down to his tight boxers, apparently worried by the way I'm watching him.

"Yeah," I giggle, shaking my head to clear it. "Yeah, I just...missed you," I answer truthfully. "I missed this...your hands, your...incredibly amazing abs," I sigh, earning a laugh from him. "And most importantly..."

I grin as I run my hand over his bulge, making him groan and look at me with fiery eyes, ready to pounce.

"Don't tease, Rach," he warns.

"Or what?" I test, daring.

"Or I'm not gonna be able to control myself."

His eyes are dark and full of lust and need and everything finally feels back to normal, which gives me confidence for the first time without the drugs.

"Who says I want you to?" I ask, trying to sound seductive as I return my hand to palm him through his underwear. "Come on, old man," I tease, knowing the age thing still drives him nuts enough to up his testosterone. "Show me what you like...make me yours."

He groans loudly, pulling me to the edge of the counter and shoving his groin into mine, lace on cotton. I gasp at the contact and the roughness, but wait for his next move. He leans in, nibbling on my ear, his breath hot and loud as he heaves out a breath.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he growls lowly, his hands now slipping between us.

I gasp when he trails his finger lightly across the fabric over my center, teasing and toying with me. I moan into his shoulder at the contact, bucking my hips to meet his hand, and then he's roughly rubbing me through the lace.

"Don't forget, this isn't set, isn't a hotel, this is home..."

"Our home," I confirm.

"I can make you scream all night if I want to," he continues in ragged breaths. "Make you come for me again and again and again until you can't take it...fuck you harder and harder until you can't move and you're yelling my name..."

I whimper, grabbing at his shoulder to steady myself, but don't back down. "Is that all?" I manage.

He groans, removing his hand and pulling off my underwear, then his own, his head nestled against my neck. "You don't know what you're asking..."

"I do," I promise. "Now stop killing the mood and fuck me."

He sucks in a breath and I feel him twitch between us, and he thinks for a moment, then he pulls me from the counter, spinning me around roughly once I'm standing. Before I know it, he's got one arm behind my back and I'm bent over, facing the mirror. I watch as he grabs for a condom in the drawer, slipping it on, and then gets behind me, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror and briefly questioning if I'm okay with how he's handling me...and for the first time, I don't react negatively to a little roughness.

"Watch me take you," he demands after my silent confirmation, letting his kinky side out.

I smirk, anxious but excited for this new position, but then gasp as he parts my legs and shoves into me, not giving me any chance to adjust before he shifts up again, thrusting into me in jagged movements as he holds me in place against the marble.

After a few more thrusts, he picks up his pace and leans down, chest pressing against my back as he holds me against him, pushing me into the counter. I bite my lip, holding in my moans, and he notices.

"Let it out, I want to hear you, he growls.

"Mmm, fuck," I finally gasp, inhaling sharply with each pump into me.

"You like that?" he asks, breath on my neck. "You like watching me fuck you from behind like this?"

I feel him slow the pace, teasing me and making me whine instead.

"I'm only gonna give it to you if I know you like it," he decides.

"I like it," I breathe hurriedly, nearly begging him, and he chuckles.

"Good girl."

Suddenly, it's like a light switches, and he pulls back again, standing tall. He holds my hips in place, thumbs pressing into my lower back to get me to lift my ass, and then he's got full access, slamming into me at a pace faster than we started, making me cry out in pleasure. His eyes meet mine in the mirror and my cheeks turn red, but something about it is extremely erotic.

"Shit, Robert..." I whimper, not knowing how long I can hold out like this. "Please..."

"I can't hear you," he teases lowly.

I close my eyes, focusing on the tightening in my gut. "Fucking Christ..." I groan loudly. "Fuck, Bobby...harder..."

"What do you want?" he breathes heavily. "Tell me again."

"I want you to go harder! Please..."

He chuckles, finally granting my request. "Keep that ass up," he orders, giving me as much of him as he can. "Are you gonna come for me?"

"I'm...I'm close..." I pant, completely giving up to him.

Finally, after a few more thrusts, I feel my legs start to give, and then the waves of pleasure overtake me as I release into a crumpled mess on the counter. He slows his movements, but doesn't stop.

"Robert," I gasp, eyes flashing open as I become extremely sensitive to his touch. "Babe..."

"Oh no, you're not done," he decides. "I'm gonna make you come till you can't walk."

I let out a whimper as he thrusts up, hard and deep, and then he removes his hand on my arm, wrapping his around me to lift me so my back is against his chest. I lean my head back, groaning into the air as his lips devour my neck, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic. Then, his free hand wanders around my waist, locking my body in place, and his fingers wander between my legs, circling slowly. Already, my legs are trembling and it's not long before I feel myself tensing up on him again.

"Oh my God," I groan, fighting to stay standing upright. "Fucking...fuck. I...again, I'm..."

"Come with me," he demands, and his fingers send me over just before he releases, himself, falling against me as he uses the counter to brace us both.

I can't help but pant as I catch my breath and ride out the last waves of the second, left in complete bliss. He eventually detaches himself to clean up, but he's quickly pulling me back into his arms, spinning me around to plant a hot kiss on my lips, tongue instantly attacking mine.

I gasp and moan into it as his hands wander back to my ass. "Bobby, what-"

"I know you got one more in you," he teases playfully.

My cheeks flare red as he goes for my neck again. "I...I don't know, I-"

"Bed, now," he demands.

I swallow nervously, but nod, wandering out to the bedroom before him.

"On your hands and knees," he instructs, and I slowly do as told, kneeling on the mattress before bending over. "You trust me?" he asks.

I nod hesitantly, but I do trust him.

"I'll make you feel good, promise," he tells me and his lips return to the same spot he touched earlier, just a brief kiss. "Just relax..."

I loosen up when I feel his hand leave my back, circling under my to reach me the third time. He takes his time, rubbing softly and teasing to distract me. When my mind's finally on his movements, instead, he pushes in further with his finger, curling up when he finally bottoms out. I whine again, wanting to drop myself to the mattress, but he holds me in place. The feeling of his finger circling easily over my center is overpowering, making me beg silently for more pressure. He circles faster, giving me what I want, and then starts moving, making me buck my hips as I grip the sheets on the bed with both hands.

I can hear him chuckle as he starts to pick up the slow pace a little, both hands moving quicker.

"Come on, babe...come for me, I know you can..."

I whine a high pitched moan, sinking my head down onto the sheets. Finally, I clench around him, letting loose as I peak for a third time. He waits a moment, then pulls out slowly, giving me a second to catch my breath.

"Holy fuck..." I groan into the mattress, letting my hips lower to lay solidly on my stomach on the bed. 

"Good?" he asks, waiting anxiously.

"Good," I sigh, content. "No more, please..."

He chuckles, moving to lay on the bedspread with me, pulling me into his arms and rolling me over to face him. I lazily look up, my body feeling like jelly at this point, and smile warmly, sleep heavy on my eyes. He smirks back, leaning down to softly kiss my lips.

"We still have the real dinner to eat," he jokes. "Don't fall asleep!"

I smirk, leaning my forehead against his chest. "Okay..." I mumble. "Just...give me a second..."

"Can do," he agrees. "But uh...so hey, who knew you had three orgasms in ya, right?"

I roll my eyes, groaning. "Really?!"

"What?!" he laughs innocently.

"Like I said...you're gonna be the death of me."

Truth? I don't make it out of bed that day. I fall asleep on him anyway, and when I wake up it's nearly one in the morning, but there's nothing going on the next day, so he took the time to keep the food heated in the oven until after my nap, and dinner's served in the middle of the night. Talk about a first night in the new house...

It's weird, coming home to this house now. I mean, I'm used to coming over, but not used to calling this home, to staying every night... It feels weird the first few weeks, especially with me coming and going and him coming and going.... Usually, when I'm staying with him, we're on a work break or it's for an event or something...but he's just in and out to the animals out back or his office in Venice, working with the team on his upcoming projects and organizing some charity stuff, and I'm back and forth to Randy's California office near Burbank, so the two of us are living...sort of normal lives, for once. There's work, dinner, nightly routines...

Well, besides the drugs and the fact that I'm getting more and more recognition after posting a photo to Instagram of all of my things lined up on the bathroom sink (after I straightened it up, of course), and Robert making a dorky face in the background, refusing to put a shirt on. Yeah, I didn't help with the caption...

@Rachel_Thomas "There's two sinks for two people and your stuff takes up both sides of the counter", he says. #MakeupProblems #RoommateProblems #BoyfriendProblems

Yeah, I wasn't exactly quiet about it. Whatever, at least I waited a couple days to make sure he didn't regret his decision!

The replies are funny; Twitter has posted a screen cap of the post and his fans are freaking out about the idea of us living together. In a good way, I guess. Instagram is just trying to guess when exactly that happened. I just like a few comments, leaving it at that, and embrace the newfound fame that's coming my way.

And that includes the small meeting with Randy the following week, when he announces we're going to officially start shooting on a music video the next week for the first single. It's completely thrilling to me, but my confidence isn't there. I guess I've learned to lean on the coke, with the boost it gives me and everything.

He shows me the photos we took last month, having the final options printed nicely for display to have me choose one for the album cover. That's when I realize how right he is; I look happy in them, instead of tense or awkward like some of my other shoots have gone, and yeah, that shoulder drop of my sleeve is giving a little sex appeal to the camera, too. I ask to take them home to look them over, and he gives me a week to decide so they can start designing the booklet for the insert. I share a hit with him, a 'celebration', he says, and then he drives me home, refusing my decision to just call in a driver of Robert's. It's mid day, and I know he's spending some time with the alpacas, cleaning up around him with a day at the home office instead, but I didn't dare ask him to drive me around.

But he offers me another line, a bigger one, when we make it to the house.

"I can't," I refuse, still lingering on a high from the last one. "Robert's home, he'll know."

"There's no cars in the driveway," Randy points out, nodding out the window. "Sure your boyfriend's around? Come on, where's my best girl?"

I glance out the window, noting Robert's usual Audi isn't where he keeps it in the drive, so maybe he is out...but I shouldn't.

"You know how proud I am of you, don't you?" he asks, and it hits me in just the right way.

I whip my head back, staring at him before the line, noting how rarely I hear that. We just talked about that on Christmas, Robert and I. It's something I'm not told often, and the way he tells me... I want to be proud of myself for all of this, I think, but he's the first to say it.

He must notice me thinking about it, because he raises an eyebrow and nods in encouragement, holding out his powdered fist for me. "Stuff's a little stronger, upgraded a little bit. Test it out."

I lick my lips while I debate, but ultimately give in and inhale it quickly, immediately feeling the buzz low through my veins. It's much stronger, making me way more alert and my nose a little drier than usual, but I'm okay, I think, and say goodbye and make my way into the house while he drives away.

I let myself in, assuming Robert's out, and set my stuff down on the counter. Maybe I can use this high to get some cleaning done. I refuse to let him have someone come in and clean, so I gotta get on it... But my heart's thumping, adjusting to whatever higher grade shit he's given me this time, and I lean over the sink to shake my head with wide eyes, shuddering in hopes of getting it filtered out through my system so I can ride it nicely.

The water's dripping into the sink and it's a lot louder than usual. In fact, it's the only sound in the room right now, and the way it splatters is more interesting than I've ever found, displaying beautifully as the drop splits against the silver bottom. Weird. I'm a little too focused. So I inhale, holding it, and close my eyes, telling myself not to panic.

"Hey," I hear just before a hand hits my shoulder and I jump, startled into focus as I catch my breath. "Whoa, hey," he eases. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I answer, mentally shrugging it off. "Everything's fine, just thinking. I thought you weren't home?"

"I told you I was working from home today," he reminds me kindly.

"The car isn't out front."

"Jim took it somewhere, I dunno," he shrugs it off, going for the fridge to retrieve a pitcher.

"Oh..." I mutter, feeling stupid; he's gonna find out, fuck...

"How'd the session go today?" he asks, frowning but moving to grab a glass from our kitchen cabinet to fill with one of his protein shakes, I'm sure.

"Fine," I lie. "We just...we just went over some of Randy's plans for the music video."

"You know," he smirks, pouring it from the pitcher into the glass. "I'm so proud of you for getting this far and sticking to yourself."

"Thanks," I whisper, hating myself inside as I sniffle and dab my nose with my finger when I feel a foreign wetness there.

I feel gross, realizing Robert's been proud of me all along, and it's like the universe is slapping me in the face with that information as he sits here telling me he's proud after I felt like Randy was going to be the only one to ever tell me. But then I note the warm red liquid I have on my finger and realize my nose has gotten so dry it's bleeding, so I rush to duck my head.

"I'll uh...I'm gonna go change..."

And then I rush to the bathroom in our room before he can see me trying to stop my dry nose from bleeding. My hands are shaking and I swear I bump in to the wall more than a few times before my head starts spinning, and by the time I make it into the bathroom itself, I'm desperately grabbing the counter top to steady myself as I look in the mirror.

God, I fucking hate myself. I hate what I'm looking at. This is only like...I don't know how many times, but it isn't all the time, so it's not that bad, but...God, is this what I have to do earn a fucking break in this industry? Become a fucking addict so my label has someone to get high with? I owe Robert more. 

Fuck. I feel queezy and my blood's running cold and when I push off the counter to stand tall I stumble back against the wall. This shit takes over fast... I shouldn't have agreed to that hit in the car and now I'm panicking, and regardless of how bad I expect this to go...

"Bob!" I finally yell, but who knows how loud it really is, because I try to head out to the bedroom and wind up falling against the door frame.

My heart's racing, much faster than it should be, and the rest of my body can't keep up.

But then two arms hold me up, wrapping around me to steady me and take me back into the bathroom. He sits me on the floor, realizing I'm not okay by the name...I never call him Bob...and steadies my head between two hands, focused as he crouches in front of me.

"I can't...I can't breathe," I finally manage, sucking in a dramatic breath.

His finger runs under my nose briefly, and I can tell he's noticed the blood. He's at work as he holds my eyes open, probably noting how dilated my pupils are, too. He isn't mad, or upset, I don't think. He's just...

"How much did you take?" he asks simply, and I drop my jaw to try and answer but nothing comes; I'm too absorbed by my racing heart. "Rachel, focus. Stay with me, okay?"

I force myself to swallow, panicked by the irregular jumping of my heart beat.

"How much did you snort? I need to know if you want me to help," he repeats clearly and carefully.

But then he cracks his jaw and holds up a finger to have me focus on it.

"Focus on me, okay? If you can't answer me, just blink."

And that I can do, so I carefully exaggerate a blink the best I can until he frowns and grabs a towel from the rack near him and briefly leaves me to wet it down with cold water. Just as soon as he's gone, he's back, placing the frigid rag against my forehead. The ice cold water drips down onto my clothes, but it's the least of my worries.

"All right, I need you to pay attention. How many hits did you take? Blink the number."

I close my eyes twice, but on the second close, I reopen them to focus on a damn cobweb in the corner of the ceiling, something I've never spotted before and for some reason want to nitpick about right now...until he lightly slaps my cheek.

"Hey! No doping out on me, steady your breathing," he warns. "You're just panicking. Keep talking to me, come on. Did you buy this?"

I force myself to shake my head just a little, enough for him to pick up on.

"All right. Who bought it, then?"

"Th...the label," I whisper, finally finding words.

"Okay," he sighs. "Okay, I'm not mad, all right? I want to help you, but I need to know how often you've done this. Is this the first time?"

I shake my head, gasping for another breath.

"Didn't think so... Are they pushing this on you?"

And I'm eager to nod, wanting him to know it isn't my decision, and somehow I find the strength to lift my hand onto his arm, though it's shaking so horribly I can see myself visibly vibrating him.

But he understands, and he grabs it in his own hand, holding it tightly. "You're gonna be fine, okay? Don't freak out, you didn't take that much. Your body's just not used to it...it's like a tolerance, like alcohol. This is gonna suck for a little while cause you're on a pretty bad high, but it'll go away."

So I nod against the wall, leaning my head back until he squeezes my hand.

"Ex coke addict, remember? You're in good hands."

"Don't go," I gasp, hearing my heart thump as I squeeze his hand. "Please."

He frowns, but takes a seat and pulls out his phone, typing in something and then setting it aside. When his head leans back against the wall and his eyes close in thought, I find my voice.

"Don't make me go back," I beg. "Please. I'm okay, I don't need it. I don't need it, I don't."

"Slow down," he sighs, lifting his head back up to look at me. "You're talking a thousand miles a second."

"S-ssorry," I manage, jittery and breathing dramatically. "My chest hurts, it-"

"Rachel, breathe," he instructs. "I'm not going to let you die. You're not even close, it just feels weird, I know. It's not healthy, but give it a half hour, tops, and you'll start to come down."

"I'm not an addict," I swear again, desperately clinging onto his hand, but his face is still. "Are you going to leave me?"

And that makes him sigh and shake his head. "No. We're not breaking up, you're not moving out...I'm just extremely disappointed in you right now."

"I'm sorry-"

"We'll talk when you're sober." Then he sighs again, dropping my hand and pulling me under his arm. "Come here...stop shaking."

"I can't," I stutter, and he rests his chin on my head, taking a breath.

"Why the hell would you do this, Rach?" he asks quietly, almost a whisper, and it breaks my heart, despite how much adrenaline is coursing through me.

"They were gonna drop me," I admit. "I couldn't take the photos, and they were gonna cancel, and then he gave me edible stuff without telling me and then you called and I didn't tell you and I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Bobby, I..."

"All right, calm down," he instructs, and somehow, that settles me, though I'm still looking wildly around.

I sit like that, clinging onto him as I try to focus on my breathing, for maybe ten minutes, before there's footsteps in the house and it makes me panic more. But Robert isn't, and he's quick to lift us up, steadying me and walking me out to the bedroom, arm around my waist.

"Sorry, there was traffic," I hear, Devin's familiar voice, which changes when she steps into the room and her eyes land on me, the first time since I moved out, actually. "What the hell, are you okay?!"

"She's high," he states, motioning for her to come take his place.

"More pills?!" she gasps, supporting my other side as he goes to grab a hat from his closet and his keys from the dresser. 

"Nope," he answers, popping the p. "Coke."

"Like...cocaine?!" she half shouts, like she forgets I'm in the room. "Did you-"

"Calm the fuck down, it's not mine," he snaps, and her temper flares, too.

"Don't swear at me, I don't fucking know what's going on!" she shouts. "You just told me to get here and then toss my fucked up best friend at me and now what, you're leaving?!"

"Going to have a word with this boss of hers," he mutters.

"What?!" I yelp, shoving away from her as I start to feel a little better...just a little.

"Rachel-" he starts to protest, and that's when I step too close.

"No, you can't, you-" I begin to beg him.

But he turns on his heel from the door, eyes cold and hard and urgent and scolding all at once, and his voice reminds me of a parent the way he talks. He isn't fucking around, and neither is his tone.

"Sit your ass on the fucking bed before I make you sit it there," he growls, pointing his finger at my face, and I swallow nervously, agreeing in silence.

I've never seen him so...demanding like this... It gives me chills for a second, flashbacks of Charlie, but he's quick to back up a few steps to not stay in my face, which makes me relax just a little, but I'm still hurt by his tone. Just too high to notice, right this second. 

But I'm paranoid...paranoid about losing my deal, about having news get out about me taking the drugs in the first place... If he goes to Randy, I'm fucked.

"Please don't-" I try again, and that vein in his neck thickens as he glares at me.

"I am trying to help you, so you're going to fucking stay here with her, sober up, and I swear to God, if you try any shit while I'm gone, I'm going to lose it. Do you understand me?"

Part of me knows it's redirected anger, especially when he turns to Devin and gives her the same tone.

"Stay here, watch her and make sure she doesn't do anything stupid or try to leave the house. I'll be back with Jim later."

She nods, though, just as angry with me as she sits on the bed next to me, and all I can do is watch as he storms out, preparing to do his worst on Randy and the label and my future.


	87. Chapter 87

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry, I had a busy weekend with con stuff. Took the suit out, we had a HUGE Marvel group photo... Turnout was amazing. Anyway, here's something? Does it suck? I feel like this sucks.

The next week is just pure emotional disarray. 

There's a screaming match between Devin and I as soon as he leaves. The door to the garage slams closed, and then she's on me like a hound, snapping about 'why in the hell I'd take drugs' and 'what happened to how fucking mad I was when Robert had them'. And then she went on a rant about how she doesn't want to represent me anymore, and how much damage control she's going to have to do as my manager. And to be honest? I tune the entire thing out.

I got the main points, but as I come down from my high, I realize the situation more and more clearly. Not even the fact that Robert's going to fuck things up at the label, just the fact that he had finally snapped. He had raised his voice, he had, dare I say threaten me? No, he didn't. It was like a parent. A scolding, not a threat. But my head's stuck on how he had yelled and how he had demanded I sit down, and that fire in his eyes. Not the good kind, but the angry kind, the kind that can cut through you like a knife. 

At some point, I move to lay down in bed, and that's when she stands, watching as I pull the blankets over my fully clothed self and bury my face into the bed to try and make myself stop feeling so god damn cold.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" she asks, snorting in disgust. "We're still talking here, or are you too high to realize that?!"

"I'm fine..." I grumble under the cover of the blankets, and that just makes her more mad.

"Doped up on illegal drugs isn't fine!"

"I'm not high anymore," I tell her in a monotone voice, which she doesn't accept.

"Good, then we can fucking talk about this now," she snaps, tearing the blankets off of me.

But I hold onto the pillow instead, feeling my throat burn as the threat of tears stings at my eyes. It isn't because they're mad. It isn't because I'm ashamed of myself, which I am. It's because I really fucking thought that I'd finally escaped the angry men in my life. And Robert...whatever that was, that was a lot like how Charlie started. Only this time...this time, I really do deserve it.

Somehow, I guess she notices. Maybe it's the breath I suck in and try to hide, I don't know. But the next thing I hear is the crinkling of the bed sheets as she sits next to me. The feel of her hand on my back, warm over my chilled body, despite the shirt I have on, slowly rubs in a circle, trying to comfort me. She doesn't say anything, she just stops yelling at me, and it's silent until I wake up later, realizing I've fallen asleep and it's now dark out. Great. Just a waste of the night, and God knows what the rest of it holds...

But there's already commotion in the entry way, somewhere outside of our bedroom, and he still sounds angry. 

"Where is she?" I hear, Robert's voice approaching somewhere in the hall.

"Sleeping," Devin answers, and I hear footsteps following him. "Before you flip out on her, can you please tell me what the hell happened?!"

"Why didn't you ask her yourself?" he snaps.

"She didn't say anything, she just got into bed and went to sleep."

And then he sighs, loud and dramatic, and their voices carry from just outside the door frame.

"This Randy guy got her hooked by taking a hit to her self confidence, then blackmailed her once he reeled her in. Told her he'd tell me and break us up and terminate her career. I took care of it."

"Took care of it?" Devin asks, just as my heart sinks as well. "Too care of it how?!"

"We had a little chat. No media coverage, she's keeping her album. We can figure it out later. She's out of her contract after it releases, but they'll still split the money. Unless we take it to court that's all I could get."

Out of my contract?! Is he fucking kidding?! That was my one shot, the only person who believed in me, and Robert just pushed him away. I feel sick, feel like throwing up, but I don't want to move, either. I don't want to talk. I'm fuming. Angry, upset... Disgusted at him more than myself right now.

But then Devin gives up and agrees to talk about it at a later date, and dismisses herself home after asking if he needs anything else from her. She tells him she's going to check in on me tomorrow, but I have no intentions on speaking to any of them right now.

"Rachel?" I hear next, but now gentle, his voice tired and just...defeated. 

I hear him kick off his shoes, but I don't stir. I continue with my pretend sleep, hoping he'll just accept it. 

"Rach, if you're up can you just...I don't know, let's just talk. ...I'm calm, I'm just needed you to cooperate, and..."

But he sighs, probably because I don't budge, and he must think I'm asleep this time. So he gives up, and I try my best to ignore him when he weighs the bed down, lying down next to me. But he doesn't touch me; he stays his distance, taking a deep breath before the room is still and quiet again.

That's the first night we've ever needed the full space of the California king.

The following days aren't any better. I have nothing to do, now that I'm out of a job. He's up, but working from home apparently, because I can hear the TV on in the living room as he types on his laptop. Someone's on speaker phone with him, but I don't know who.

I take a shower, then decide I'm going to go to Randy's office anyway, figure out what to do to make this right. I need to finish the album. It's due out soon, the music video is due out soon... If I miss any of that, it could delay it. I'm so close I can taste it, and I'm not letting him stop me. So, I toss on some clothes and make for the door, hoping to sneak by without him noticing because I don't want a conversation right now.

But when I go for my keys, they aren't on the hook, and I inhale sharply, then go to my bag and search, desperately hoping I just forgot to hang them up the last time I was out, and I guess I make enough noise to alert him, because he's ending his call.

"Give me a half hour, I'll call you back?" he requests, and then his focus is on me as he twirls his pen in his hand. "Moved em," he tells me calmly. "You're not going anywhere."

I blink, stunned as my blood heats up. "Then I guess I'm taking an Uber," I growl, glaring his direction.

"We have everything you need here," he counters, tapping the pen on his lips.

"I'm going to the studio," I snap, letting my anger finally rise fully. "To undo whatever the hell you did."

"Me?" he laughs, though it's that dark sarcastic laugh that tells me he's taken aback by my words. "I saved your ass, Thomas. Don't start."

"Saved me?! You ruined me! You went after him, and said God knows what, and now I'm jobless! I'm sitting here doing nothing, and I could've had it all. I could've had a record out, a label to back me. You know how long I've been waiting for this!"

And that's when he slams down his laptop and closes it, setting it aside to stroll my way. "At what expense?! You know what that shit does to you when you get hooked. Okay, I get it, he pushed you, you're new to all of this, whatever. I made the same mistakes. But that's just it, Rachel, I made the same fucking mistakes, and you should know better just from that!"

"You have no idea what I've been doing to make sure this happens! You're never fucking here, you're never with me, you wouldn't know how hard I've worked!" I snarl, leaving my bag on the counter and stomping past him with a final glare. 

"Get back here, we're not done with this discussion!" he yells after me, and I turn on my heel, my temper flaring, and crack my jaw.

"I say we are!"

"It's always what you say, isn't it?!" he tosses back. "You, you, you. You want this fucking singing career, you 're the only one who's hurt here, you decide that we're not talking? What the fuck ever happened to us, huh?! When did you stop telling me things?! When did you stop caring about what I was working on or giving a shit about how I feel?!"

"That's not true and you know it!" I counter, but he's quick to follow up with examples.

"Yeah? I stood in the cold in Times Square for you! I rearranged my God damn house to make room for you! You don't even know what's on my schedule and we live together!"

So I raise my eyebrows, challenging him. "Fine, then enlighten me!"

He rolls his eyes instead. "I already tried. Asked you to read that script ten times. Told you I was getting the stuff in for the next Avengers, too, which you used to be excited about, but now you don't even care. Oh, and by the way, I'm going to be out of the fucking country in a couple months here, so you need to figure out what the hell you want before-"

"How dare you," I hiss. "I asked for a career, not a babysitter!"

"And yet you've thanked me for neither," he answers, eyes cold as he crosses his arms. "I got you here. Not Randy," he says with a tone to his voice when he speaks his name, "not the fucking cocaine. Me. Me, and your talent, which I've brought back from the dead twice now!"

"I haven't actually died," I clarify. "But thank you," I spit next with narrowed eyes, "for making sure I didn't die again. I'll make sure I do it right next time. Third time's the charm, right?"

"Hey!" he yells when I retreat back to the bedroom. "What the hell does that mean?!"

But I don't respond, and he's hot on my tail, and all I want to do is escape this, so I slam the door in his face and lock it behind me, thankful he still has locks on his doors in this house. But it doesn't stop the pounding on the door, the many, many times he yell after me. The pillow on the bed muffles it as I try to ignore him, my heart racing, but it doesn't completely mute his voice.

He's panicked now, and for good reason. I can't blame him, but I am not unlocking the door. He should trust me, right?

Maybe if you didn't hide drugs from him, the voice in my head reminds me, so I squeeze my eyes shut and ignore it the best I can.

"Rachel Thomas, open this damn door!" he demands, and it chills me just like the day before when he scolded me. "I swear to God, if you try anything!"

A tear slips from my eye and I hold my breath, and after a moment of silence, he adds, calmer than before.

"Honey, open the door. Please, I can't lose you, I love you," he begs gently, and it breaks my heart, even with how mad I am. "Rachel-"

"I'm fine!" I yell back, into the pillow, but it's enough to quiet him..for now.

I wind up crying myself to sleep again, as childish as it is. I'm an emotional mess, and I'm still worked up and mad at him for taking things into his hands. But it's a rude awakening when I wake up.

The sound of drilling is evident, pulling me from my sleep, and I wake confused sometime before dinner, once again dark outside. I shoot up in bed, blinking to make sure I'm not missing anything, but nope...nope, that really is the empty door frame to the bedroom. The entire fucking door is missing.

"What the fuck..." I mutter, getting out of bed and wandering toward the door to peek into the hallway, and the sound of power tools is louder than usual.

Looking to my right, I notice Robert taking the hinges off of the laundry room's door, setting the big white door itself against the wall across the hall. He's got safety goggles on and a cigarette in his mouth, and I'm seriously in disbelief.

"What the fuck happened to all of our doors?!" I ask, and he smirks, shutting off the drill and turning toward me. 

"I can't trust you, so I'm taking them down."

"You have got to be kidding me," I snort. "You're fucking taking all the doors off our house?!"

"My house," he corrects, "and yes, yes I am."

"Your house?!" I gasp dramatically, fueling my anger again; I guess we're still fighting. "I live here, too."

"Yup," he nods, removing the cigarette for a second. "You live with me in my house."

"You're smoking inside," I comment, more of a statement than an attack. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"My house, sweetheart," he answers, then tucks it back in his lip.

So he is smoking again? Cool. Great. That just makes me feel fucking guilty, and now I have to live with it.

"You know I don't like that," I remind him and he nods.

"And you know I don't like drugs anymore, but hey, you brought them into my house, so-"

"I didn't-" I start, "there's nothing here!"

"Good that'll make my search tomorrow easier," he shrugs.

I ignore it, realizing I did the same to him, so I go back to cigarettes. "I'm not going to stay here and breathe that shit in. My stuff didn't hurt you."

He stares at me for a moment, then takes the cigarette and drops it on the floor, stepping on it with his shoe. "Fine."

My stomach does flips as I realize how dramatic he's being. He doesn't even remind me of the same version of Robert that was on the bathroom floor with me. Either time. He's cold, and stand offish, even if we're arguing, and it hurts.

"For someone who promised they weren't leaving, you sure seem to be distancing yourself from me," I state, crossing my arms, and he raises an eyebrow behind those stupid goggles.

"You won't talk to me," he comments, and I take a deep breath, trying to avoid the yelling again.

"You ruined my dream, Robert," I tell him blandly, trying to keep my voice flat, but I feel tense and worked up behind the mask. "What the hell do you want me to say?"

"What dream?" he asks next, playing dumb. "You're still fucking the movie star you've been stalking for your whole life. Pretty sure you made it big time, superstar."

And that's what makes me snap, so I retreat into the bedroom and grab his pajamas that he's left on the dresser and toss them at him. They bounce off of him and he glances down at the floor where they lie back at me, not phased.

"Sleep in your own damn room," I growl. "You're being an ass."

"You can't kick me out of my room," he laughs in his own amusement, though it sounds bitchy to me.

"Funny, I'd say you can't fuck up my work, but look what you did!" I say through clenched teeth.

"I didn't fuck up anything!" he snaps back, and now I can tell his temper's starting to show again. "I helped you when you needed it most!"

"You got me fired!"

"You haven't even listened long enough for me to tell you that your damn album is still dropping!" he growls, letting the drill fall to the floor with a loud thud that probably cracks the hardwood. "Your shit is still yours, but you're out of the contract to stay with them for a tour."

"That's how I'm going to get my name out there!" I yell, letting my arms fall to toss my hands in the air. "How am I going to make money if you took away the one fucking thing I want to do?!"

"If you'd stop being such a fucking bitch, I'd show you what I'm working on for you!"

"Don't help me!" I decide. "Don't even try, just leave me alone!"

And that's when he laughs his high pitched laugh, shaking his head and letting his shaggy hair fall into his face. It would normally be cute, but right now, I'm seeing red, and I can't stand the idea of not having a tour when it was so close.

"Good thing we aren't married, huh?" he mutters, and that kills me. "What a messy fucking divorce that'd be."

I'm angry...I'm furious, really. My heart snaps in half, feeling like he's just ripped it out himself. I want to cry, but not in front of him. I want to leave but he has me stuck here until he decides to give me my keys back. I feel trapped, and that's exactly what I didn't want, and that's when the three words I regret slip from my mouth, a whisper above all else.

"I hate you," I huff.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer, and that's when I blink back those tears that are trying to slip out. Only then does he note my small struggle that I'm trying to hide, his smirk fading. But he doesn't advance, he just watches, watches as I run a hand through my hair and turn back toward the bedroom.

"You have to eat," he calls after me, but I don't want to eat; not today.

"I fucking hate you, Downey!" I scream over my shoulder.

It's hours later when he finally comes into the room. I've been silently staring at the wall since, fuming. At some point I got my phone, but looking at happy photos of us and the hype over my single on Twitter just depressed me. I don't speak when he comes in to take a shower. I just roll over when he sits on the edge of the bed.

"I told you to use the spare room," I mutter.

He sighs, and there's a moment's hesitation before he agrees.

"Okay..." he confirms softly. "Rach, I'm only doing this because I love you..."

I guess he waits for an answer, expecting me to say it back, but I can't. I just stay rigid, trying not to cry as I dully look outside the foreign window until he gives up and leaves.

And that's how things go. All week. There's a couple days of no talking. He works from home, refusing to leave me alone. I can't bring myself to explain this to my mom and Devin isn't happy enough with me to hold a conversation, so there's little contact. I eat my own meals, refusing to eat what he makes me the first few days, and by the third day of silence, he just stops trying. There's no more screaming matches, but very few words are exchanged.

Mid week, I finally sneak outside and go to spend some quality time with his animals. I don't visit them often, honestly, but I don't know what else to do to keep sane right now. So I lean against the fence, taking a deep breath as I try to figure out what I want to say. Fuzzy is closest, walking up slowly as she grazes, but she's always been the most social...and Robert's favorite.

There's a light breeze on the air, and it's still chilly, but I have a jacket, so I'm okay. I rest my arms on the fence, glancing up at the cloudy sky, and sigh.

"I don't really know what to say..." I mumble, watching as the red alpaca lifts her head and stares at me, chewing. "I just need someone to talk to I guess...and you can't argue with me, so..." I exhale loudly, shaking my head. "I don't know where to go from here. I can't just not work, but the label's never going to work with me again. I don't even know why I did it... I guess...I guess that's the first time I've ever felt like I've been good at anything. Things were happening, and they weren't before I started using..."

The alpaca starts coming closer, until she's standing in front of me, and I sigh, feeling stupid.

"Your dad hates me..." I tell her gently. "I kinda told him I hate him, too. But he just...he just doesn't get it."

I reach out to pat her neck, not knowing what else to do or why I even came out here, and that's when I hear the gate open to my left, and when I look over, Robert's carrying a bucket in and headed toward their shelter in the far corner.

"Fuzz, let's go," he calls, his tone flat, and I know he's just doing it to take them from me.

"Seriously?" I ask, but he doesn't look back.

"Go inside, Rachel," he instructs, and I roll my eyes. 

"Fuck you, Downey," I curse, and then turn on my heel and end that brief peaceful encounter before it's anything helpful.

I spend the afternoon with Aero, instead, sitting on the couch watching TV and shunning Robert into his office for whatever video conference he's on today. Neither of us have the energy to fight after the last few days, so we just silently share the living space. He hasn't even tried to move back into our room, but the bed's starting to feel empty...

That night when I check my phone, there's a missed call from Dave. He probably wants to know what the hell is going on, but I don't know how much word has spread. I can't deal with it right now, though. I've just started to feel empty...alone. Depressed again, I guess. At what point do we break this off? At when point do I accept defeat and move home?

Toward the end of the week when he's doing some work outside, something with the animals, I decide to pry in his office and see what he's been up to. The script that he's been asking me to read is lying there, and I pick it up, thinking about sitting down with it, but then something else catches my eye. That book he gave me for Christmas...the photo album of us, and it's open next to the computer, the disk missing from the back. So, I sit down, typing in his password, and unlock the computer to reveal the folder that I still haven't looked at up on display, and he's left it on the video of us in the parking lot after I went back to Georgia.

"Do you know how worried I was? Every day," he says on the video.

I hear it just like I did then, so familiar as though I'm back in that lot. Even my ridiculous rant, which he shut up with our first...first actual kiss that meant something.

"I know you might...I mean, if you're seeing someone else, I get it... That's not why I came here, I just...we left off on a weird foot, and I just figured you didn't want anything to do with me, and then I heard you took that girl to the premiere, and... We never really..well, I guess-"

Seeing it from this angle kills me. He's holding me so delicately, his lips in a smile when he leans against me. He looks nervous, but content, and I can almost recite the words as he says them.

"I've wanted to do that since last time you were here... I missed you, Rach..." he'd told me.

"You're insane," I had answered before hugging him.

"I know..."

I blush though when I reach for his waist after I watch him kiss me, and I realize it's been...God, it's been over a week since we even..touched last. Not kisses, no touches...and I just want to be close to him again... My anger is fading and fast, remembering how happy we used to be.

"I need you..." I'd told him, to which he agreed.

"Mmm, hotel?"

"Too far. Trailer?"

"Mhmm... God, I love you."

And there it is. Lord, I haven't heard this since then. But he wasn't lying...he did say I love you then, and I'd played it off just as he had. And the best part? It just sounds so normal...so regular, so comfortable. And he hasn't said it since...since I didn't reply earlier this week, and now I feel guilty.

I flip through a few more... one of us at his birthday. There's a couple of us at the TCA's that I didn't know Jimmy was filming. He has his arm around me and he's leaning in to whisper into my ear as we walk ahead of his friend. Another is when he attacked me during my interview. There's two of us being cuddly on set and one of us sharing a kiss on my aunt's porch the one time Jimmy came over for dinner sometime before I went to Nashville. 

And it's not long before I find myself smiling, but when I do catch it, I turn off the computer again, sitting back in his chair and fighting myself internally. I'm so fucking mad at him, still, but I miss him more than I realized. I miss that smile that I haven't seen since he found out. I miss his voice, which is so rare and when I do hear it, it's been monotone and emotionless. I miss the light in his eyes and the sound of his silly giggle... His smell, his fluffy hair, that beard on my shoulder when he lies in bed with me at night.

He promised, right? He promised that we were okay, he's just disappointed. So maybe...maybe if we talk... A tear drips down onto the script and I desperately try to dry it. Fuck, of course I'd cry all over his work...

Groaning at my own issues, I decide to grab the blanket on the back of his chair and wrap it around myself, then make for the back door before I can change my mind again. I can't stop myself from crying, and I'm sure I look like a mess, but it's easier to cry than try to calm my nerves or stop my heart from beating nervously. So much has been said this week, things we can't take back, and I don't even know how to apologize, or if he's going to just walk away again like he's been...

It's chilly, so I hug the blanket to my shoulders and wander down to the field, then open the gate, not caring if my cheeks are freezing with wet tear streaks. 

He's sitting in the field, watching the alpacas roam in the grass ahead of him, and he's picking at it with one hand, tearing out pieces and tossing it aside. He's got one arm draped over his knee and his leg bent, the other out stretched. He looks calm...that's a good sign.

I guess he hears me when I open the gate, because I can see his shoulders shift as he takes a deep breath in, but remains straight ahead. I latch it behind me, making sure the animals can't get out, and then head his way.

"Not right now, Rach," he sighs, "I can't deal with another fight right now, so if you can just..."

But he stops when he hears me sit next to him, and even though I refuse to look at him, I can feel his eyes on me. I must look like and idiot, my cheeks wet and my eyes red and this stupid blanket over my pajamas, but he doesn't say anything.

After a moment, I glance his direction, but he's back to looking ahead, and I can't take it anymore... He looks so sad, so defeated, and his voice...his voice is just tired. I know we're on the same page, if he was watching those same videos.

So, I toss myself at him instead, attaching to his side and leaning my head against his shoulder, one arm clinging to my blanket and the other diagonal across his torso and around his neck. I just want to feel him...touch his soft hoodie, smell his shampoo, feel the scratch of his beard... It's been a really long fucking week and I can't do it anymore. Maybe it was the videos, I don't know, but something just snapped and...

He hesitates for a second, but then I feel his arms find their way around me and his chin rests on my head, the feeling of air leaving his lungs with a long drawn out sigh.

"I'm sorry," I squeak out, back to full on crying, and he kisses the top of my head, trying to soothe me. "I don't hate you," I sob, "I don't at all, I-"

"Hush," he whispers, "I know. I know, baby, it's okay."

"I love you," I cry, lifting my head to kiss his cheek with a big, wet kiss, and then his nose, for effect. "I love you, I love you," I continue, analyzing his soft facial features as he relaxes before me. "I don't want to fight anymore. I'm so sorry, Bobby..."

"I love you, too," he promises. "Calm down, please."

"Please don't leave me..." I whisper, burying my head back into his neck while my tears wet his shoulder. "Please...I miss you..."

"Leave you?" he asks, pushing me back to wipe my tears away with his thumbs. "Are you crazy? Why would I leave you?"

I swallow, coughing a little before sniffling and avoiding his eyes. The feeling of his hands on my cheeks is comforting, but I can't meet his gaze right now.

"I lied to you," I whisper. "And then I...the arguments, and what I said, and-"

"Rachel Thomas..." he smirks, and that finally draws my attention back in. "We had a fight, it's not the end of the world."

"We had more than one," I mutter under my breath, and he shakes his head in amusement of how stubborn I am.

"It was a big one," he agrees, "and I was really fucking pissed with you until now if I'm being honest...but that's all it was. Sometimes that happens. But guess what?" he asks gently. "I'm never going to love you less for it."

"But-"

"I told you I'm going to marry you someday," he reminds me, and that's when my heart stops as I listen, my jaw slack as I try to breath though it instead of my stuffy nose. "I am going to love you and take care of you for my entire life, and nothing is going to change that. I don't need a wedding band to hold that promise, I just need you. So even when we fight and we're mad at each other and even if you want me to sleep in the other room for however long you decide, I'm not going to give up on us. If we fall apart at the first sign of trouble...how are we ever going to have a life together?"

I try desperately to search his face with my blurry eyes, but I'm nearly choking now, unable to control myself. I'm sobbing when he shifts so he can lay his legs down and hold me against him again, taking me in for another hug, and running his hand down my hair repeatedly. I cling to him as if my life depends on it, heart breaking because I don't deserve him. I don't deserve him at all...

"I don't want to sleep alone anymore..." I manage out, but it's probably not even English at this point. "I'm so sorry..."

"Honey..." he tries, a little chuckle added again, finally. "It's okay. It's okay, I promise..."

"How can you say that?!" I ask, my one hand twisting in his long hair. "How can you forgive me like nothing ever happened?!"

"That's easy," he assures me, kissing the top of my head again. "Because I love you and I miss you, too."

"Come back to bed," I beg, despite it being the middle of the damn day, and he laughs genuinely.

"Tonight," he promises. "After you cry this out and we talk over dinner."

I nod eagerly against his neck, not even thinking twice. "Okay," I squeak out.

"I promise you everything is okay, you just have to let me explain what's going to happen from here, okay?" he requests, and I decide to trust him, feeling the sincerity in his voice.

"I don't want to go back to rehab-" I whisper, scared, and he sighs again.

"You're not. I know you're not an addict."

I take a deep breath, finally calming down a little bit...or just enough to clear my throat and talk normally, though quiet. "What did you do to him?"

"What did I 'do'?" he asks with a laugh. "Sweetheart, I didn't kidnap him or murder him."

"What did you say?" I correct, soothed by the feeling of his hair in my hand, like always.

"I told him I know, and that I know it wasn't your idea, and that I'd turn him in if he didn't let you go after this album drops in a couple weeks."

"That's it?" I question, and he shrugs under me.

"There were...some other words exchanged. But that's the gist of it."

I take a breath, repositioning my head on his shoulder. "What am I going to do now?" I whisper sadly, and he hums into my hair.

"Well..." his deep voice starts, raspy and comforting. "You're going to go to work and start planning this tour so we can get your dates booked. Oh, and your video shoots in two weeks."

And that's when I shove off of him, sitting at arm's length with confusion on my face. "But I don't have a label, I-"

"I'm working on it," he smirks. "You wouldn't let me tell you before, but while I've been at home, the office in Venice has been hiring a team for you and we bought out a small studio in Santa Monica. My team'll back you on this one until someone else picks you up."

My eyes widen as I try to process that, heart stopping. "You...you made me a label?!"

"A temporary one," he tells me, gaze following his hand as he runs a hand through my hair. "My guys can keep an eye on you in case Randy decides to cause trouble..."

I know that secretly means 'until I trust you again', but that's okay. I don't blame him. But to set up a studio, to make a new label just to push my tour out there?! He can't be serious...

"Robert-" I try, but he's one step ahead of me.

"Don't 'Robert' me," he teases, "just promise me you'll get yourself sorted out."

"Thank you..." I whisper, and then lean in to place a kiss on his lips, finally giving him a proper kiss for the first time in over a week.

His mouth is soft and his beard even softer, and when I pull back, I let my hand cup his cheek instead, giggling lightly through my tears.

"You should probably shave soon..."

"Probably," he shrugs. "This weekend, maybe..."

But I don't comment, instead I just laugh, shaking my head and drying my own eyes before answering his questioning look.

"What?" he asks, and I bite my lip.

"You have no doors in your house..."

And that light returns to his eyes as his cheeks pull up and reveal his laugh lines and his perfect teeth in a grin I missed.

"I...don't have any fucking doors in my house," he laughs, just as genuine and slightly delirious as myself.

And then there's a nudge at my shoulder, and I nearly jump, but Robert giggles when Fuzzy's head appears over my shoulder and licks his hand that he stretches out. I can't help but laugh, too, realizing why he loves them. Just like Aero, or my dog that my mom has...the alpacas are affectionate and can read emotions, too. 

"Everything's okay, girl," he promises his pet. "Don't worry."


	88. A/N

A/N: I wanted to catch you all up. I'm sorry I haven't updated. To be honest, I've sat down to write every day after work and have just fallen asleep on the couch in the process. The next part is about halfway done, I just can't stay awake any more tonight.

A little recap on this week, though: I was in a car accident on Wednesday. Got rear ended, my back bumper's just knocked out of place, but we can pop it back in. The funny part? It was my supervisor behind me in traffic, bot on our way to work. She said she realized right away it was me by my RDJ/Avengers stickers in the back window (ha!). 

I've been trying to be super happy for my buddy who's going through a rough time and it's been draining me. Not gonna let her know that, because I love her and it isn't helping her that's making me exhausted or anything. I want to. I'm just working and dealing with this car thing and then trying to make sure I'm there to respond to her...oof, it's been a week, seriously..

I got the other book I ordered from Gwyn for my mom's new diet, and didn't expect this, but she signed the inside of it. So that's seriously awesome! Also came home to a big, BIG box of Taylor Swift merch (this was the first tour I didn't get anything and it killed me, but adulting and priorities and money...ya know) from my buddy here in Pitt, and it was a total surprise and I was overly emotional.

Had a con, I think I talked about, but now everyone wants to know how to make my suit lol so yay (sarcastic) now everyone's gonna be Iron Man...whatever. 

Oh, and I saw real-life version of Charlie for the first time in six years. Shared a glance, that was it. Kinda made sure I don't sleep soundly though. When I am falling asleep, it's on my couch and I usually jolt awake around 3 or 4 in the morning. I'm a freaking mess, I swear...

Oh and Roberto's got the curls going again for Sherly already and I love it.

Okay, rant over. Look for an update tomorrow, I hope! No later than Saturday, I swear!


	89. Chapter 89

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry this took forever. So funny story, right? Hung out with this guy who just wanted to mess around, whatever. Don't judge. I had Zodiac on because I'm remaking a jacket RDJ wears in that, and anyway dude literally stops what we're doing to focus on the fact that Paul Avery is passed out in his car. Wanted to finish the movie instead of moving to the bedroom. Like, oh, okay. Welp. Paul Avery used to be my favorite but I'm kinda upset with him right now, LOL. Anyway, sorry I suck. Also RDJ is secretly a Disney princess (see my latest posts on social media). Oh and my car is fixed, we just popped the bumper back in, no big deal lol. Goodnight!

I insist on breakfast for dinner, needing the comfort of many, many pancakes, eggs, and bacon...even if it's just vegetarian bacon that Robert's allowed to eat. Instead of going out, though, he asks me to help him cook, so I agree. It's something to do together, the first thing in over a week that we aren't fighting about.

I've since dried my eyes, but I'm still reserved...my nose is still red and I'm honestly just embarrassed... I'm quiet, not sure what to do or say as he mixes up the pancake batter in a bowl. He's adorable, whisking it with hi tongue out as he focuses. God, I missed him. I missed his boyish features, that silly happy go lucky attitude that I sucked out of him for a few days. 

"Water?" he asks, holding out the bowl for me to pour some in, and I blink, not paying attention. "Rach?"

"Sorry..." I whisper, grabbing the measuring cup to fill it with water. 

But he sighs, letting down the bowl and then turns to the island, patting his hand on it. "Come here," he requests, "sit."

So I hop up on the counter, sitting awkwardly and shifting until I'm comfortable. He leans over me, hands on either side of me as he narrows his eyes and presses his lips together under that thick beard of his.

"What?" I ask quietly, blushing at the eye contact like a teenage girl.

"Do you want to talk now?" he asks gently, and I let my eyes flicker down, avoiding him, so he sighs again and brings a hand to my cheek to lift my face back up. "Okay. Listen to me, beautiful...we'll get through this. I'll help you, just like before."

My lips twitch as I take a deep breath and try to figure out what's on my mind. It's tough...there's so much swirling through it and I can't pinpoint just one thing.

"I don't know how to make this better..." I admit finally. "I...I was high, a lot. For those photos. For half of the recordings... New Year's Eve..."

I expect him to be angry when I look back up, but he's patient and calm, waiting and letting me talk. His brown eyes are soft, listening, and they dance across my face as I try to explain.

"There's nothing here, I swear..." I promise, dropping my eyes again. "There never was."

"I believe you," he finally speaks up, snagging my attention again.

"You don't trust me," I remind him. "I don't blame you."

"No," he agrees. "Not completely. But you didn't trust me and I gained it back. I know you'll do the same. Time fixes things, sweetheart."

I nod a small nod and let out a a breath before pressing any further. "You're smoking again," I comment. 

"Sort of," he confirms, sounding a bit ashamed of that answer. "Not as much."

"Is it because of me?" I ask, needing to know.

As my heart skips and I wait for an answer, he smirks, quiet and lets his hand finally drop back down to the counter. 

"Yes," he answers, then quickly follows up with, "but before you panic...it's not what you think."

"You'd quit," I whisper. "I made you pick it back up. My stupid arguing about marriage, and-"

"That couldn't be further from the truth," he argues. "I picked it back up after Thanksgiving when I decided I was going to ask you to move in with me."

"What?"

He reads my confused face with a chuckle. "I told you I get nervous sometimes...mostly around you. And I was worried you'd say no."

"Why would I say no?" I breathe, lips tugging up at how adorable that is. 

He shrugs. "I dunno, cause it wasn't a proposal, or you weren't ready for that, or-"

"I love living here," I tell him softly, meaning it...until I follow up with a joke. "I mean, I loved it a little more when we had doors, but-"

"Uh huh," he laughs, then leans in and steals a kiss that I laugh into.

"A little dramatic, don't you think?" I giggle into him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

But he detaches quickly, grinning and looking down this time. "Believe it or not, I've called Dan every day this week..."

"Those were your calls?" I ask, hurt that I pushed him to use therapy that much, but he nods, confirming that fear.

"We both kinda hoped things would work themselves out," he admits. "And they did."

He watches as I frown and nod, sighing myself. That just leaves...well, the divorce comment. That's all that's left on my mind. He seemed so serious when he said it, but who knows, we were both hot headed and not thinking straight.

"I just want you to be more confident," he goes on when I'm lost in my own thoughts. "I know you have it in you, and it isn't because of the coke, or whatever you wanna pin it on. It's somewhere there, in you," he presses, pointing a finger into my chest and for a second, I flinch, remembering how angry he'd been that first day he found out, but quickly shake it off and fake a smile. "It's because you know you're good and you know you can do this, and maybe people have only been telling you otherwise until now, but that isn't the truth. People love you, I love you."

"I love you too," I laugh lightly, feeling tears threaten again. "Devin doesn't..."

"Devin's been at my office picking out your crew and filling in your band on the change," he informs me. "She's disappointed, I guess, but I know you can prove to us you don't need that stuff."

"I will," I promise, nodding and wiping my eyes before the water slips out. "You said, uh...when you said about divorce, I..."

"I know," he hushes me, leaning in to kiss my forehead. "I didn't mean it. I know with your dad and with our discussion a couple months ago.. I'm sorry, babe. Sometimes I just lose control of my temper and say things I don't mean. But trust me, even if we were married...I wouldn't divorce you over one fight. Just like I'm not breaking up with you over one fight."

"Okay..." I sigh. 

"My turn to ask a question?"

So I nod, staying quiet, nervous about what he wants to know. There's so much that he doesn't know, and I want to tell him, but I don't want to deal with that yet. I want to be happy with him, enjoy the closeness that I've been missing all week.

His eyes stare straight into mine, and they're killing me, but I listen just the same. "Were you high in Napa?"

"No," I whisper quickly, sincerely. "I didn't even bring it."

"All right," he agrees. "I'm trusting you..."

"Thank you..." I answer awkwardly, my lips twitching, and that's when he pushes back against the counter and goes back to his bowl.

"Wanna get the eggs out?" he asks, nodding toward the fridge, and taking a breath, I hop down from the counter top and retrieve them, along with a new pan. But he goes on as he mixes water into his bowl, amusing himself. "You know, I'm kind of disappointed you didn't strip while you were high."

"Robert!" I groan, pulling two out. "Come on, it wasn't that often..."

"But," he continues, smirking, "if you would've wound up in someone else's bed, not sure how I'd take that."

"I would've learned from the best!" I snap back playfully, cracking an egg onto a pan, but next thing I know, there's a wet smudge on my cheek as he lets a finger wipe down my skin, leaving pancake batter in its wake.

"Watch yourself, Thomas," he warns.

"Did you just..." I ask, frozen, and then get a confirmation when he giggles his high pitched giggle. "Ass," I counter, and then step forward and take a handful from his bowl, smearing it on his shirt.

He watches as my hand pushes it into the fabric covering his torso, blinking, and then lets his eyes travel back up to me. They narrow, thinking for a moment before he starts the war.

"You'll regret that," he warns, and then he's quick to toss a handful of batter at me, not giving a shit if it's in my hair.

It hits with a loud slap and it's cold and I stand there, stunned and gasping at the shock of the sudden wet feeling as it slops down to the ground and splatters. He only laughs like a child, waiting for me to react. So without warning, I grab the egg I left on the counter and crack it, then toss it at him, and before I know it, we're in a full battle, pancake batter, eggs, and flour coating the kitchen. He goes to grab a handful of flour from the bag between us when he runs out of batter, and I turn to run, slipping on the hardwood in my socks, and he loses his balance with me after trying to grab me to stop me from escaping, and then I'm lying on the ground with a yelp as he pins me down.

"Where you gonna run now, huh?" he teases playfully, and for once, I don't think of Charlie or anything he did; I hear the playfulness in Robert's voice, and that means everything.

So as I laugh, I wriggle under him, trying to loosen myself from his grip, but he's got me pinned, his chocolate eyes sparkling as he looks down at me. He's got batter in his beard, egg in his hair, and I can feel it on my shirt and under my arm to my side. I know the floor's a powdery mess, matching his pants. Yet somehow, he's still so damn attractive.

And I guess this comes over both of us at the same time, because his smile's quickly fading, and a second later he's swooping down to steal my lips in a kiss. He's not shy, either; despite the mess, he presses his body against mine and searches out my tongue, and I can even taste the sweetness on his kiss.

I groan into him, biting his lower lip and going for his shirt faster than ever before, wanting...needing it off. He's quick to pull us up so he can tug it over his head, and after he breaks away, he knocks his head off the counter behind him. I can't help but laugh as he winces, and then I take him in for a happy kiss, laughing against his mouth with both hands on his messy beard. I feel him smirk into it as he pauses to regroup, which lightens the mood so much.

"You're like a fucking caveman," I giggle, realizing he probably needs to shave soon.

But he only growls suggestively, being dramatic per usual to play the part as if he actually is one, and then tackles me again. And then he's tugging down his pants and I shimmy out of mine, not giving a shit about my top. I just need him, I need this tension to vanish. 

There's nothing but ragged breathing and groans and the occasional whine for me when he reattaches his lips. His kisses are needy...rough, urgent, and I can tell he's wound up, too. So he's quick to pause and spit in his hand, reaching between us to prep himself, and before I can count to ten, he's pressing into me, stealing my mouth yet again to mute my gasps.

No part of me cares about the mess we're in, when he starts moving, and my hands instinctively find his lower backside, gripping him and silently begging for more. He obliges, picking up his pace, and after a couple moments, he's already shaking. I lift my legs, setting my feet flat on the floor at his sides, and that's when he groans into our kiss, breaking it off to pant and catch his breath as he moves.

My head's tossed back for a minute or so, closing my eyes as I feel that missing piece of me being put back together by our closeness. But that comfort is cut off too soon when I realize he's compromised.

"I'm not gonna last," he warns lowly, voice croaking, and I can feel him starting to shudder. "Fuck..."

"Already?" I tease, and that's when he grunts out something that ends in a whine, his hair hanging in his eyes as he looks down between us.

"It's been a long fucking week," he reminds me, and then he's quickly scooping himself out, stroking himself until he comes, spilling it on my shirt still covering my top. "Sorry..." he groans, nearly embarrassed, but it doesn't bother me.

In fact, as he catches his breath, I don't comment, not even about the fact that I didn't really...reach anything. I just sit up and tug my shirt carefully over my head, rolling it into a ball to make sure I contain the mess, and then I look around, sighing.

"I'll get the paper towels..."

"This is why we should have a maid," he reminds me, noting I told him I'd rather do the housework, and I still disagree. "Worry about it later," he follows up, helping me up. "Let's uh...let's get a shower and we'll go out for dinner."

"Are you sure you don't want to just eat off the floor?" I grin, but he quickly slaps my ass and pushes me in the direction of the bedroom.

"No, but I think I'll have my appetizer in the shower," he growls when I yelp at the small squeeze.

And he isn't kidding. He's on his knees faster than anything, holding my hips in place as he lets his mouth do the job, and he doesn't let me go until I'm falling over his shoulders, unable to stand straight on my own. 

While he's getting changed after we actually shower, I start cleaning up the mess in the kitchen, and when he still isn't back by the time I'm done, I start to get suspicious. So, I make my way back to the bedroom and wander into the bathroom. The door's open, so he isn't hiding, but...

"Hi," he grins sheepishly when I catch him with the razor to his jaw.

"Did you shave?!" I gasp, heartbroken cause I loved his beard..but at least his hair is still long.

"Maybe..." he answers like a child who's in trouble, and it makes me giggle. 

What's worse is when he looks up, he has only his mustache left, and I immediately fold my arms over my chest and shake my head. 

"Oh, no," I warn. "I will not let you do that pornstache phase again."

"But it looks so good!" he begs, and I lick my lips, suppressing a grin and trying to keep a straight face.

"Nope," I answer, "I have an album release party soon, or so you say, and we are not going with you looking like that."

"That's rude," he argues, then sets the razor down and wipes his face, turning to me with narrowed eyes as he tries to twitch his lip. "Come here and give me some sugar," he jokes, and I giggle again, turning away.

"Oh my God... Robert!" I chuckle out.

"If it makes you laugh, I'm keeping it," he tells me sincerely, but I sigh, turning back to him. 

"If you just keep the hair for a little while longer, I'll be happy," I smirk, stepping up to run my hands through it. 

So he agrees and continues until he's clean shaven, then grabs a pair of glasses to wear out and we're on our way to a restaurant, a bar in Santa Monica, wanting snack food after that small work out. That, and I need a beer after all of this stress this week. 

He tells me about his plans for the recording studio and the label, naming it after himself. 'Downey Records', he decides, and I don't want to argue. It's a big enough gesture, I don't need my name on it, too. But the band will be in this week and he's got Devin setting up some stuff for me to look at over the weekend; wardrobe and plans for a video, marketing materials... The decisions will ultimately be mine, giving me more room for creativity, but he has a team for me to work with just in case. The manager of the studio? Her name is Delilah, D for short, and I'm not sure if he hired a female just to avoid anything like Randy again or not, but I'm thrilled to work with her. Her background is great, too; Julliard, for starters, though I didn't get all the way through the resume she gave him.

Anyway, after downing a ton of bar food from the booth in the back corner we're sitting in, I'm still nursing my beer. He's got his arm around me, holding me into his side as he checks out some stuff on his phone, and I feel whole again...for the most part. He's warm, he's soft, and he's making me feel comfortable...until...

"Okay, new plan," he tells me, pocketing his phone and rubbing his hand up and down my arm that he's holding onto.

I blink up at him, raising an eyebrow, and he smirks.

"You're gonna play a song."

"What?" I ask, confused, until he explains.

"With the band. Go sing with them. Without the drugs, without that fake confidence." He nods toward the small band in the front of the room. "Come on, go get it."

"Oh, no," I protest, sitting up and setting my beer down. "No, I cant, I-"

"You wanted me to trust you, right?"

I nod, frowning a little when I know he's got me.

"Good, so go play something. They'll love you, you'll see," he encourages. "You have a ton of fans, use that as your confidence."

"But-"

"Nope," he silences me, shaking his head. "If you don't wanna use them, use me."

I sigh, frustrated, and then take a deep breath. "Okay, okay...I...fine..." I grumble. 

But he grabs my hand and squeezes before I exit the booth, smiling warmly up at me. "Hey," he calls and I turn back to him, "I love you."

That earns him a kiss and then I'm off to speak to the manager about singing with them. He's quick to agree, apparently knowing who I am, as long as I sign an autograph for him. I do so willingly, and tell him to nag Robert for one if he wants, and then I'm taking the stage.

And he's right...the small crowd of people hanging out listens and enjoys it and applauds and there's even some who want photos with us when I get off stage, and it does boost my confidence a little. It was just a cover song, but still...

But that little bit fades just a small amount by the time we return back to the house. There's no funny business before bed, there's just the awkward moment where he brings his pillow back in and forces a soft smile, weirdly taking his side of the bed again for the first time in over a week.

And despite giving the okay, despite the fun we had in the kitchen earlier or the cuddling we had at the restaurant, things seem just...tense again. Not in a bad way, but that weird uncertainty of what to do or how to react to things? Yeah, that's happening now and it's freaking me the fuck out.

He kisses me goodnight, and then turns out his light, and then he's on his side facing the outside of the bed, I guess not wanting to overwhelm me and touch me right now. It hurts a little, but I get it...so I lay on my side facing him and let my hand seek his out over his hip, staying back to give him some space, too, but when my fingers catch his, he interlaces them and squeezes, ensuring me he's okay with the touch. And then he tugs our hands up and into his chest, gently pulling me with him.

I guess I'm the big spoon tonight.

But that's okay, I lay myself up behind him and take a deep breath, letting my head rest behind his neck. His hair's got the strong scent of his shampoo still, but it's muffled a little bit by the smoke from a cigarette he had outside the bar before coming home. But it's him and it's perfect either way.

"I missed you..." I whisper through the dark after a quiet moment and he squeezes my hand again. "I'm sorry, Bobby..."

I feel him take a deep breath from under me, his shoulders stretching as he does so. "Stop apologizing," he mumbles sleepily. "Everything's fine. We're fine."

"Are you-"

"Sure?" he chuckles lightly. "Yes. Give it time, Rach. Things will fall back into place."

I exhale, silently agreeing, but I can't sleep. I can't help but think of the last time this happened. The last time I used, anyway, and he had to come save me at home in PA. I never really asked how he felt, either time...just like I haven't been keeping up with his work or anything happening in his life recently. He's right...I've been distant and I need to change that.

But first... "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," he yawns. "Shoot."

"When you followed me back to Pittsburgh..." I start quietly, "last year...what were you...what was your plan?"

"To tell you I meant what I said," he answers softly. "Not the fight, but about falling for you. And that I wanted you and I wanted you to know that you didn't need him or the pills. That I wanted a shot with you, that I should get a chance to make you happy." Then he sighs. "And if...if you'd taken them, I was going to stay with you regardless. Even if it was just one."

"You really..." I whisper, stuck on the first part. "We'd only-"

"That wasn't just sex, Rach," he answers, tugging my hand up to kiss it gently. "I didn't anticipate that, but that was...God, that was so much more. Pretty much sealed the deal right there. I didn't wanna admit it but since the wedding I was trying to force myself not to fall in love with you. And then I just...I just let myself go."

That should thrill me, right? But no. I have to over think, I have to ask the stupid questions.

"If you could do it again-" I start, but he's quick to cut me off again. 

"Would I take it back? No," he promises. "Would I give into my feelings for you sooner? Yes. A thousand times yes. Because that would've gotten us here sooner."

"I love you..." I whisper, cuddling into his back, and he sounds like he's smiling.

"Love you more, gorgeous...have since day one."


	90. A/N

A late merry Christmas to everyone if you celebrate it! I apologize for not updating sooner. I got called into work earlier tomorrow when I had about half of the new part up, though, so I won't be able to post it until tomorrow. Thanks for being patient! Also shout out to RDJ lurking me all of a sudden, I dunno what I did, but thanks for sharing my tree the other day and answering my question, buddy.


	91. Chapter 91

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry it's been a while. What did you guys get for Christmas?

Turns out my new team is super cool. 

The next week is packed full of work, for the both of us. Three days later, I'm meeting with my team in our new office in the valley, and I think I'm going to like working with them. Delilah is very laid back, and the other guys are younger, and the part that amused me in all honestly is that Robert drug tested them all. I mean, any place of employment should, shouldn't they? But I know why he did it.

The band was filled in, but not with details on me. The concept of drugs in the workplace itself was tossed around and used as the reason for leaving our contract, but they were all assured nothing would change for them. Robert's financial team is handling any drawbacks from their contracts they may have, to make sure of that.

Speaking of Robert...he's drug me to a few of his meetings. A precaution, I guess, or so he says. A stepping stone to trusting me again. They don't get much press, and even if they do, they'll probably just assume I'm there for him. But to the few NA ones I've been too...he's hoping they help. Honestly, if he wasn't there, I probably wouldn't open up. It'd be like rehab before, lashing out or staying silent. There's nothing for me to say, really, since it wasn't an addiction. I guess talk about the real one, the Vicodin. But whatever; either way, whether I talk about him or myself, I'm there with him, sitting next to him with his hand in mine as I listen to them talk. He finds it therapeutic, but I guess I still need time to feel that way about it.

And he also accompanies me to the studio that first day, wanting to see the new building and wanting to make sure I like my new team and we pick up right where we left off on Randy's schedule. They have cards made up to show me an idea for the music video for Make Me, the single we put out that, oh, topped at number three after New Year's! Number three! I was never expecting that. I didn't even expect it to chart, to be honest, but Robert did another push of the video from my Times Square performance, despite knowing I was high for that, and his social media ate it up and tossed me further into the top ten. 

Anyway...back to the point, he insisted on coming with me to that first day, so he grabbed coffee on the way and strolled in with me, ready to hand out cups to everyone in the group - the band, the staff... And then he sits with me at the conference table, decorated with his own paintings on the walls, and listens as they pitch the pretty tame idea for the first video. It's mostly just me, a few costume changes...nothing over the top since this is my debut. And Robert wants nothing risky, at all, being protective as hell since learning Randy asked me to drop the shoulders on my shirt during that photo shoot and it wasn't actually my idea.

"The Grammy deadline was a while ago," D tells me as I flip through the concept board for the video shots, "but even if we won't be there, I'm having Josh run PR and have them broadcast the video as a debut during the show."

"So, basically during a commercial break they'll show it, then we shoot it up on YouTube and Facebook, Twitter, whatever," Josh nods, sitting back in his chair.

He's a younger guy, probably fresh form college, and as Downey sips his coffee, he takes my hand in his under the table, that weird little protective side coming out again. I mean, he hired him, so his problem... But regardless, I think having someone younger on social media and PR is good; Robert's team knows how to do it, but to be honest, he isn't as interactive, and I don't want to lose that connection with my fans.

"Okay," I agree, smiling politely. "Everything's good, I like it."

"And then after the video drops we can release info on the tour," Josh adds. "Which Delilah..."

"Which I've finalized, going over contracts your old manager set up. We're still transferring a few of the venues over but no issues so far. Worst case, we drop a list of those we've secured under Downey Records, and add the others as a new date later on," D smiles.

"Would make for a good push for revenue, too," I sigh. 

"Mmm," Robert finally chimes in, smirking and setting down his coffee cup on the table. "Downey Records. Love that name."

I roll my eyes, but he's quick to giggle and sit up, placing a small kiss on my cheek for comfort.

But uh, yeah, that's about it. I mean, that's the gist, anyway. Robert's been casting for his movie, so they're doing prelim table reads the week I'm shooting the video. He's trusting me to do it well, but he's needed in Venice, so we have the days apart, leaving dinner dates for night. He goes late a couple of them, though, so I busy myself with Aero and cleaning up the place. A couple of nights I make dinner, but he's not able to eat much as they get him back onto a diet for the Avengers movie, so I can't be too creative. Oh well, it's something.

I have Devin set up an appointment with a physician here in Malibu, hoping to get an answer about the thing we talked about on Thanksgiving. I still haven't quite told her what's going on, but I'll have her come with me, if she wants, and explain it to both her and the new doctor. Nothing's been decided, but I just want to know, you know?

At the end of the week I have a day off, so I move into his office, hoping to organize some stuff in my email using his home computer. But there's a pile of mail sitting on his desk which he had tossed there earlier in the week and still hasn't touched, so I sort through it, ready to discard any spam mail and whatever else might be in there...until I realize this is all fan mail that he's received to the office's address in Venice. Apparently, he's brought it home to go through, but hasn't actually started doing so. 

I don't want to open his mail, but it isn't long before I see a couple addressed to us both, which is weird to me. I guess there's no real address for anyone to send anything to for me, so I make a mental note to have Devin set up a PO box or something with the local post office just in case...

But I wind up opening a couple. A few are requests for autographs, which I'll gladly have him do and send back. But a few are letters of appreciation, some photos of me on stage or us together out that fans have taken. It's weird, kinda creepy in a way, but...nice. Nice to know people are trying to give us a part of our life they captured in case we didn't have it already.

But it actually makes me a little sad...so I weirdly wind up calling a buddy, not Devin. Someone I've never really talked to much, but I know he's close with, and they won't tell him I've asked.

"Rachel?" the voice asks when she picks up the phone, and I take a breath and sit back in the chair before answering.

"Hey, bad time?"

"No," she answers, hushing those negative thoughts before I start thinking them. "I just wasn't expecting your call."

"I know, I'm sorry."

Calling Gwyn wasn't my most well thought out idea, but I kinda need some insight here. She's got all the tricks up her sleeve for Goop, so maybe she can dish some out to me about...well, things I know Devin won't take seriously.

"Did you lose your boyfriend again?" she chuckles into the phone, remembering the multiple times he dashed off on set without me knowing, resulting in me getting lost.

And I laugh too. "No, he's working. I'm at at the house."

"Right," she answers, and her smile is heard in her tone. "So what can I do for you?"

"I need some girl advice," I sigh. 

"Mmm," Gwyn muses. "Girl advice or sex advice?"

I hesitate, feeling myself blush already. "I...both..." I mumble awkwardly. "I'd ask my friend but we're kinda in a bit of an argument so I don't wanna bother her...and honestly, you know him better than I do sometimes..."

"Who, Robert?" she guesses, as if that wasn't obvious. "We have a long history, yes. But you know him now better than I do."

"I think we just know different things," I smirk to myself. "Does he ever..I dunno, does he..."

"Does he talk to me about you?" she finishes for me and I sigh again, closing my eyes and leaning my head back against the headrest of the Iron Man chair he uses in his office, feeling stupid. 

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry, I just-"

But she laughs again. "Rachel, it's okay," she promises, bless her. "He's shared some things, but not recently. I've been crazy busy with the new store and-"

"And I shouldn't have bothered you," I settle on again. "I just don't know what to do. We had an fight a couple weeks ago and it's fine now, or he says it is, but something just feels off and we haven't..."

"Had sex?"

"Yeah..." I mutter. "Yeah, not since we made up and-"

"Make up sex is the best kind of sex," she teases, and I bite my lip, grinning now as I remember the mess we made in the kitchen and the spontaneity of it. "He hasn't tipped me off about anything. He's probably just focused on work, you know how he gets."

"Crazy and irrationally creative?" I describe. "Yeah, he's a handful sometimes...but for a while he was more...sexually driven," I admit, "when he was all worked up. I can't help thinking we've just lost that intimacy since that fight and-"

"I'm not going to ask what it was about," she assures me, "but if it was a big enough deal, he would've come to me. Who do you think got him to relax and call you after that fight on set?"

"You sent him after me?"

"Oh, no," she answers quickly, "once he settled down that was all him. But I heard all about...well, you know. Didn't really feel like I needed to tell you that, but since you're asking... Don't worry, though, no details, just-"

"It's okay," I insist.

"He hadn't been with a girl he wanted to stick around for a while," she tells me quietly. "Honestly, I think the last real thing was-"

"Sarah?" I guess, and she confirms. 

"I think so."

"I feel like we'll just spin out like they did," I whisper, and she is quick to tell me otherwise.

"No, this is...this is different."

But I only groan, frustrated. "All we do is fight..."

"Couples argue, it's normal," she promises me, delicate and soft to calm my nerves. "What's more important is how you come back from them, how you move forward. So just relax, talk to him if you're concerned. He listens, you know. He's a very well trained puppy, is all. Hyper, but he knows how to sit."

I giggle at that, realizing how silly that sounds but how fucking accurate it is at the same time.

"Text me your address," she continues after a moment. "I'll send you a care package, some stuff from Goop. Just promise me you'll use it and relax a little bit. Ask him to chat, maybe go shopping for him, if you catch my drift...men love that skimpy underwear."

"What kind of stuff?" I pry, ignoring the last part, and she shrugs it off.

"You'll see when you get it." She sounds like she's up to something, honestly.

"Okay..." I sigh for a third time. "Do you have his address?"

"I do," she hums, "but this is for you."

"I sorta...I moved in," I admit, realizing that apparently they really haven't talked lately. "So my mail comes here now..."

"Really?" she asks, amused. "Good to know. And you think he isn't serious about you..." A pause. "You're always welcome to call me if you need anything."

"Thank you..."

Shortly after I'm ending the call and I'm sending her the address just in case, but then I'm thinking about my next move. I don't wanna bug him while he's at work, so I refrain from texting him. Plus, I don't really expect many answers while we're both in the same city anyway. That being said, I definitely do miss his silly little banters with me, his good morning texts...the random ones throughout the day just to say 'I love you'. They're very few and far between now, even though he does say goodbye with a kiss in the mornings before we separate.

Anyway, of course I decide to push myself to go through my section of the closet, looking for a couple of the uh, outfits, I bought online while I was in Nashville. Kinda wanted to surprise him and never did. We were both so busy that when we did see each other...well, it wasn't hard to get in the mood.

I settle on a matching ice blue set, satin and lace, and then quickly shower and fluff out my hair, trying to make myself look decent. It's nearly dinner and he's bound to be home soon and I know it's basically bombarding him after a day at the office, but like I said, it's been almost two weeks, and I really don't know what else to do, and he should like this, right? He liked the last time I dressed up for him.

But the sound of the door closing from the garage interrupts my early panicking and I quietly pad to the kitchen, wanting to surprise him. He's sorting through his bag, as he takes off his hat and sunglasses and lays them on the counter, facing away from me, so I take the opportunity to sneak up on him from behind.

While he's not anticipating it, I slide my hands over his eyes and place a small kiss on the back of his neck. He tenses on impact, feeling my breath chill his skin where I kissed, and I can feel his eyebrow raise from under my hands.

"Guess who," I whisper, and I can hear the smirk on his voice.

"Uh, Rebecca?" he jokes, starting with R names, and I roll my eyes silently. "Robin? Wait, blond Robin or red head Robin?" He must sense my tension at that, because I feel his lips twitch up in a smile. "All of which are made up and compare nothing to the woman I'm living with, so unless she's been kidnapped while I was away-"

So I smirk as well, placing another kiss on his neck, breathing against his skin. "Welcome home. I've been waiting."

"Have you?" he asks, and then I let him see, and that's when he spins around and lets his eyes travel up and down my body, making me shiver. "I guess you have."

"What, don't like it?" I ask, confused by that small reaction, but he smiles softly.

"No, I do," he promises. "I swear I do. You look hot, promise."

"Just for you," I murmur, running my hands up his chest, trying to be seductive. "Wanna get out of these clothes and join me in the bedroom?"

"I do," he agrees, but then... "It's just..."

"What?" I huff, dropping my hands as I'm almost hurt by the rejection; stupid of me to think this would work. 

"It was just a long day, lots of re reads, script work. Was just looking forward to a nice dinner, maybe order in and a hot shower?"

"It's not even seven," I blink, furrowing my brow. 

"I know," he sighs, leaning in to kiss my forehead as if that makes up for saying no to sex. "And I appreciate this, I do, but I'm just not feeling great tonight and though we could just relax and maybe turn in early."

"Uh..." I stammer, shaking my head as I divert my gaze, hands sliding up my arms as if I suddenly need to be covered up. "Yeah. Sure...I'll just...go change..."

"Is that okay?" he tries, and I shrug, now a little annoyed. 

"I guess."

"Rach," he sighs, and I take a deep breath in, stepping back. "Come on, I'm not trying to be a dick here, I-"

"No, you just don't have one tonight," I grumble.

"What was that?"

"Nothing..." I answer quickly. "Sorry, it's fine. I'll just go put on some clothes and save this for another time..."

He smiles kindly before turning back to his bag. "I love you," he offers, and I know he means that, but it still sucks.

"Love you too..." I answer.

But as I head back to the bedroom, I feel like I'm doing the walk of shame. It's weird. He's never turned me down before. And I don't know, maybe he really is just tired... He's been doing more work lately, now that all of these films are in full swing. I don't really know the half of what goes into making them, either, so there's probably a ton he's been up to that I'm not aware of. But come on...he's never acted his age, and suddenly he's actually forty eight and going to bed at nine? Sounds like he's just avoiding sleeping with me, honestly.

I don't know, maybe I'm over reacting. I'll just try something else, maybe tomorrow, since it's Saturday. Maybe we can go out for a jog or have date night or something that would reassure me. 

I guess I deserve it, though. I fucked up, I lost his trust. But he was so eager after the fight, after that day I apologized. He jumped me in the kitchen. He was overly giving in the shower. We fell asleep cuddling. Was that the last of that?

Running a hand through my hair, I grab my clothes from earlier from the closet floor and change. Relax, Rachel, I tell myself. It'll be fine. You can't always be in the same mood, give him a pass.


	92. Chapter 92

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a happy New Year, everyone!

"Up!"

"Block!"

"Follow through!"

Well this is...interesting. 

We're into February now, the month that's bound to be eventful as hell, and despite the bumpiness between Robert and I that I'm convinced exists, we decided to blow off some steam together. With exercise. 

But not the fun kind of exercise like we originally agreed on when either one of us got edgy... No, instead, he went to wing chun and brought me along. But I have no idea what's happening other than he and his instructor yelling out random shit and Robert grunting like a weirdo while he flexes his muscles involuntarily with each movement. It's hot, it is, because some of the noises he's making are quite...familiar...and I haven't heard them in a while.

Anyway, I decide just to sit and watch, which is fine by him. I don't really feel comfortable testing it out, mostly because I'm taking deep breaths to stabilize myself and focus on how it's healing him and not the aggressive motions. He's skilled with it, and his balance is unreal, and now I completely understand how he keeps himself so grounded. That and those stones on the jewelry he wears...at least he's still wearing my bracelet most often, which is a good sign. And that watch from Christmas.

"Hey, watch it!" I hear his instructor call, which snaps my attention back on their combat.

When I look, Robert's got his forearm against the instructors, and his wrist in his other hand; apparently foul play.

"Sorry," he breathes, but I can't help but shudder, watching how tightly he's holding onto it.

Instantly my mind's remembering that night at dinner, when he had his arm around me a little too aggressively, and then his yelling at home a couple weeks back when he found out about the drugs. I've been clean since, but...but that mixed with memories of Charlie...

So I push myself up and make for the door, needing some fresh air, and our eyes meet briefly before I shamefully let myself out.

"Take five," I hear his instructor allow, and I know he's going to follow me.

But I sink down against the wall in a crouch and lower my head in my hands as I focus on my breathing and reminding myself Robert isn't Charlie, hoping it'll go away fast. It isn't as bad as a normal panic attack, but something about seeing him hold that guy like that... I shouldn't be bothered by this, but we never talked about how he raised his voice at me for the first time ever, and...

"Hey," comes next, followed by a hand on my shoulder that makes me jump.

"Shit," I curse, leaning my head back and closing my eyes as I exhale. "Sorry..."

"What's up?" he asks, offering me his hand to take to help me stand up, so I accept it and do so, running my free hand through my hair.

"Just a...I..." I start, not really knowing what to say.

"Panic attack again?" he guesses, and I nod, blushing from embarrassment. "What triggered it?"

"I...don't know..." I lie. "I've got it under control...it's not as bad, just a little spooked..."

"Maybe taking you to a combat course wasn't the best idea," he smirks, squeezing the hand that he's still holding. "I'll call it quits for the day, this can be my thing from now on."

"No, it's okay," I try to assure him, but he isn't buying it.

"You haven't had any nightmares lately, either," he sighs.

I nod, admitting he's right; it's been quite a few weeks, actually...maybe more... "Really, I just needed some air, but I'm okay..."

"Still wrapping it up for today," he disagrees. "Maybe another day, but not if you're uncomfortable."

But I'm tense for the next couple of nights, and I can't tell if he can tell, but I'm trying my best not to let it get to me. There's still no nightmares, thank God, so maybe I've sort of replaced Charlie in my mind with Robert since that incident... But that's not how I see Robert, I know he isn't like him, so I'm just...confused? Yeah, confused.

Maybe it's more than that, though...maybe I'm feeling more distant, I don't know. Maybe he's feeling more distant. He's been friendly and cute in public, and he cared about my small bit of anxiety at the class the other day, but I can't help but feel like something is still off.

And it hits me one of my off mornings when I'm grabbing a bite to eat while the house is empty; he's been gone all day most days, and I haven't the slightest idea how things are going...or what he's up to. And my memory reminds me that during our week of fighting, he brought that up. The fact that I haven't seemed as interested in his ventures, just myself.

So, I wander into his office and snoop, like usual, Aero somewhere at my feet, and search for that script of his. I'm sure it's an old version by now, but there's a couple lying in the corner, next to the Avengers script, which is still untitled apparently. Regardless, as much as I want to jump into that, I take the one labeled The Judge and sit in his chair. I sink into it, propping my feet up on the desk top, and take a breath. 

And it's quiet for about an hour, but it's a good quiet. The writing is..well, it sounds normal. And it isn't overly dramatic like most movies are. Part of me wonders if he wrote this with his own father in mind, but I won't ask...yet. I'm too impressed, and I'm kicking myself for not caring about what he was working on. It's no wonder a producer picked this up.

But before I can re read it for clues, the front door is opening and there's chatter and familiar voices...Robert, of course, but also...Jim and Devin? Huh, she didn't say she was coming over... Honestly, we haven't talked much at all since that day in the bedroom...

Setting the script down next to Aero, who's now asleep on the desk, I head out to the kitchen to greet them, not caring at all that I'm still in my pajamas with my hair up. Devin's used to it, and Jimmy's...well, I'm sure he's seen Robert in worse.

"Lunch party?" I muse, catching their attention.

Robert turns to me with raised eyebrows an then says hello as Devin waves. "Ended early today, thought we could have lunch and hang out since you have a day off, too?"

"Yeah, yeah..." I agree with a smile. "Of course."

"Great," he grins, kissing my forehead as he comes to say hello. 

"Can I uh..." I start, nodding into the office. "Can I see you for a second?"

He frowns, setting down his bag, but follows me in anyhow. "Am I in trouble, or...?"

But once we're out of view of the others, I tackle him with a hug, kissing his cheek and resting my chin on his shoulder. He's apparently confused, but he eventually hugs back and rubs his hands up and down my back for comfort.

"Why exactly did we need to have a private meeting for a hug?" he ventures, so I release him and kiss him for several moments before letting him go completely.

"This," I tell him, picking up the scrip and holding it up. "I know I suck and it took me forever to read it, but this...Bobby, this is amazing!"

"Well, I wrote it, so..." he mumbles, being the cocky shit that he is, and I roll my eyes, tossing it back down. 

"Seriously...I'm sorry I didn't read it sooner, but I absolutely love it. Every bit of it."

"Every bit?" he questions, and I nod. "Even the part about the divorce and the kid, and-"

"Well...even if I don't like that, per say, that doesn't mean it's written poorly. It's my own issue, but to anyone else, it would be perfect."

He analyzes my face for a moment before letting out a breath and hugging me again, and the feeling of his warmth welcoming me fills my heart at least for a little while. I missed him with how distant we've been. Maybe this will fix it.

"Thank you," he murmurs into my hair, and I smile against his shirt.

"I love yo and that creative brain of yours," I sigh, and squeeze his torso.

"Love you too," he responds, then pats my shoulder and nods back out into the kitchen when I back off. "Come on, beach day. Go get a suit on so we can get going."

Devin and I spend the day watching Robert and Jimmy toss a football back and forth, and even though I hoped he would've taken his shirt off, Robert's got his t shirt on over swim trunks, the pendant hanging from his neck evident under the thing material. He doesn't want to burn, he claims, but honestly...have you ever seen him sport a burn? The man tans, he doesn't burn.

But regardless, I watch him from our beach chairs, thinking a lot about the first day I caught him on the beach over a year ago now, when he teased me about Instagram and asked us to go to his party...not knowing it was the same one we were already going to. Man, so much has changed...he was so cocky then, so...RDJ. And he still is, at times, but only in public. He's such a softie at home...

"Hey, what's on my agenda on Friday?" I ask Devin finally, not taking my eyes off of the boys. "I haven't seen Erin and Jon in a while, is lunch available?"

"Uh" she comments, pulling out her phone to check the schedule. "No studio time or rehearsals after tomorrow until Monday," she reads out. "He's got office time on his, though, till four. Oh, wait, you've got that doctor's appointment you had me make at ten."

I swallow nervously, dreading that thought. I honestly forgot about it in the past few days, with how worked up over Robert I've been, but I still want to know, so there's no way I'm cancelling now.

"Want to tag along?" I ask, "I'll call them, maybe we can stop by afterwards for lunch."

"Sure..." she hesitates. "You do know you don't need security to go to the doctor, right? Everyone goes to the doctor..."

"Yeah, but then I don't have to swing back to your place to pick you up," I try to tease, light hearted as Robert misses a catch but jumps into the air a little too far and stumbles into landing on the soft sand.

"My place..." she mumbles, "...is quiet empty, in case you forgot..."

"Miss me already?" I laugh.

"Obviously. I still can't believe you're like...living with Robert Downey Jr. Is he weird to live with? I bet he's into all this hippy shit, and-"

"You're insane," I giggle, lying back down and closing my eyes. "Come on, you know him, we've known him for like a year and a half!"

"That terrifies me," she admits. 

"He's normal, when he's home," I give her. "I mean, yeah, he's got all those chakra gems and his meditation stuff and whatever, but I already knew all of that."

"He really could be a hippy," she continues, stuck on her choice of word. "I mean, he was born in the 60s..."

"Okay, first of all, his parents are the ones who would've been hippies. If anything he just caught the tail end. Rat pack member, remember? He's an 80s boy."

"And you're an eighties baby," she tosses back.

I groan, not wanting to have this conversation again, even if she's kidding with it. "Come on, Dev, we've talked about this. His age doesn't matter to me."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," I answer. "I love him for him, not for his look or his age or his fame..."

"Uh huh...and how's that marriage talk going?" she asks next, which makes me nearly choke. "Still interested after-"

"After what?" I snap. "After the coke? Just say it."

"I just want you to be clean," she says quietly. "I understood the Vicodin, shit was going on, whatever. But the drugs this time...come on, Rach...what the hell were you thinking?"

"I made a bad decision," I mutter. "Can you just let it go?"

"But-"

"Yeah, I know," I growl. "I'm awful, I made your job worse, and if anything ever gets out, I'm fucked. But I'll handle that if it happens. For now, I'm fine. Robert and I are fine," I lie. "And I want us to be fine, but I'm not going to keep having this discussion."

"Then stop taking drugs," she barks back, and I understand where she's coming from, even if I'm angry.

"Fine," I agree coolly.

There's a few moments of quietness, but eventually she agrees to drop it and we go back to being friendly...even if it's a little awkward.

But there's about a thousand questions at lunch with my aunt and uncle. We stop by after the visit to the doctor on Friday, having some kind of healthy salad she made on their back porch over the ocean. They ask about my album, what's been going on with my living situation, because honestly...we haven't spoken in a while. They've been away and I've been busy, and it hasn't been easy to stay in contact over the holidays.

But my mind's where Devin's is as she picks at her salad quietly, her eyes soft on me as if I'm going to break at any second. But I haven't let it affect me...not yet. I'm sure at some point it might, but not yet. Probably when I see Robert at home.

"You seem perfectly healthy," the doctor had told me after running her tests. "And it's good that you dropped some of that extra weight. A little is fine, but the build in muscle from your work outs will do you much better."

"Yeah, they're making sure I get in shape," I agreed, scratching my head.

"You have questions," she observed, more of a statement than a question, and Devin raised an eyebrow from the seat next to me.

"Yeah," I admitted with a deep breath. "I know...well, I know if I decide to peruse this, I'll have to go to an OBGYN, but I," I started, catching Devin's alarming look, "was hoping...well..."

"If this is about trying to go back on birth control, I'd advise against it," the doctor told me as she took her gloves off and disposed of them. "I read your charts, and even if your exercise routine has your blood pressure down, with as wacky of a schedule as you're going to have coming up, your body won't adjust to the change well. Plus, if anything does falter with those levels, you'll run a risk of issues again."

"Right..." I agreed slowly. "It's...not...I uh, well..."

"You can say whatever you want to say," she tried, sitting in her stool and waiting patiently. "Doctor confidentiality, remember?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "I know, it's just hard to discuss some stuff, and-"

"I've read your file from your previous physician. The ones from your report before the case, too," she commented, mentioning that hospital visit back before I had a lawyer lock Charlie up. "Are you still using?"

That just made me anxious, so I snapped back at her before I could appropriately react. "Would you send me back to rehab if I said yes?"

"Rach!" Devin scolded, and I sighed, apologizing.

"No," the doctor answered. "Not unless I felt you were abusing, but your vitals look fine, like I said."

"I'm not."

"But there was a couple months of something else," Devin tossed in, thinking I wouldn't tell her myself.

"Something else?" the physician asked, and I swallowed awkwardly, nodding in shame.

"It's not...everything's fine now. She can tell you, if you don't trust me. But I uh...my label got me into some narcotics, and-"

"What kind of narcotics?"

"Cocaine," Devin answered, voice cold as she crossed her arms over her chest. "More than just a couple times."

"I kicked it, we got a new label..." I explained quickly. "I fucked up, I know. But it's over with."

"So are you asking me if you'll pass a drug test?" the doctor tried to joke, but it really didn't sound like one.

"I..." I inhaled, trying to calm myself. "They told me last time that I shouldn't...that I could've had some issues, if I was pregnant, and..."

"Do you think you need a test?" she asked, and Devin sat up, jaw slack.

"Rachel! Is this...did you guys..." she started, but I shook my head.

"No, no!" I promised. 

But the doctor continued on, not phased by Devin. "Are you sexually active now?"

"Yes," I blushed. "Bobby's-"

"Do I have to kick Downey's ass?!" Devin persisted, and I giggled at that, tilting my head in scolding at her. 

"No, shut it!" I laughed. "We've been safe, it's fine..."

"Right," the doctor laughed, finally breaking her serious face. "I'd be active if that was my boyfriend, too..."

"Okay," I huffed in amusement, raising both hands in the air. "That's not my point!" And when things settled down, I went on. "We just...have been talking. And nothing's happening, or whatever, but since last time they told me to avoid having a baby, I just...wanted another opinion. I know I didn't help matters with the coke, and the Vicodin kinda fucked me up, but I just want to know if there's any hope for a family, or-"

"You're right," the doctor sighed, back to serious. "The new drugs don't help that at all."

"So..."

"There's complications that come with drug abuse like that," she explained. "And mixed with your blood pressure..."

"You want kids?" Devin whispered, still stuck on what I said, and I nodded silently.

"I take it you'd also say no, though," I sighed, glancing at the doctor with hope.

Her lips quirked slightly, thinking by the looks of it. "I wouldn't say there's no hope," she settled on at last. "But it wouldn't be the safest idea. Like I said, there's long term effects with hard drugs."

"Like..." I tried, so she dove a little bit deeper.

"I suggest you consult an OB if you really want the specifics," she stated carefully. "But...women are more prone to fertility issues than men when it comes to drug abuse. And your history might not be terrible, but his...might not be any better. It might be hard for you two to even conceive."

I nodded slightly, broken hearted, but she didn't say there's absolutely no shot. 

"But..." she continued, "if you do, there may be complications during the pregnancy. Premature birth is the most common. But if you continue the use of anything...you could have issues with even worse blood pressure, especially with the cocaine. Premature membrane ruptures, separation of the placenta from the uterus, miscarriages...that's all a possibility."

I didn't know what to say, so I took a deep breath, accepting that information. 

"Every person's situation is different," she added gently. "If you were going to try to conceive right now...I'd advise against it. But in a few years, maybe, things might be different if the two of you are still clean."

"He's been clean for years," I tossed back, hating when people doubt him. "He's much stronger than I am."

"If you plan on having a baby, you should make sure you're strong enough for the three of you."

I nodded again, and that's when Devin chimed in, trying to be helpful, I guess. "Maybe just not right away, right, Rach?" she asked. "Wait until you're married, or until you guys decide what you're going to do if you don't want a wedding..."

"Yeah," I agreed, forcing a smile. "Not right now. I just wanted to know...to be prepared in case he and I had to have a talk."

"Come back when you're ready and I'll set you up with a good gynecologist," she suggested. "And don't worry, I won't say a word of this to anyone outside of this room...not even Mr Downey if he calls in."


	93. Chapter 93

The second few days of February is taken with a grain of salt. My album's dropping just after Valentine's Day, and everything's been approved. Photos and layouts for the booklets inside the CD case came back, the lyrics all written out like a real artist. I'm ecstatic, and they submit it to printing to get them done and out to the stores in time for the 17th, the Friday before my 31st birthday.

Robert insists on celebrating, taking me out to dinner with the band and the team from the studio. Devin tags along, and he's invited Jimmy and a couple of other buddies as well. I guess he tried to beg Gwyneth into coming, considering her Goop box showed up the other day, but she's out of town. I haven't opened her package yet; I've been too busy. But I will soon.

Anyway, it's dinner at Nobu again, which has easily become one of our favorite places to eat while we're in Malibu. And it dawns on me that in the next few days, I'll be in New York...without him. Weird. There's press, but he's back to working with Marvel, taking a break from the film he's been working on with his own people. They're molding him for the suits and tailoring the outfits and he's going to check out the sets in Atlanta while I'm in New York. They aren't built in full yet, but he's nosy and likes to be hands on with them. He's always part of the creative process, and I love that. I just wish he'd be able to go to my press stuff with me and vice versa, but he's trusting me to do them well and sober on my own, so I can't say anything about it, really.

So for our last little rendezvous at the house before I take off tomorrow, I attempt to seduce him in bed. We still haven't...yeah. It sucks. I haven't brought up the doctor thing because something's definitely off, but he was fine at dinner, and fine getting ready for bed when we got home. So when he joins me in bed, I'm quick to roll over so I'm facing him, noting how he smiles sleepily back.

"Thank you for dinner," I whisper, taking in every little feature on his face, including that little freckle on the side of his nose that he's trying to hide with the pillow. "Do I have to go to New York?"

"Yes, you have to," he laughs lightly, closing his eyes for a moment before reopening them. "You'll be fine. Make sure you take your key, just in case the gate gets stuck."

"You're sure I can stay at the house?" I ask, and he presses his eyebrows together with a twist of his lips in amusement.

"Did you forget we're living together?" he chuckles.

"No, but-"

"But nothing. You live with me. We are one household, one family. I just happen to have multiple houses. So any of them are yours, too. Including the Hamptons."

I can't help but smile, biting my lip. There's silence as he watches me, and finally I speak up, admiring those soft eyes I'll miss for the next few days.

"You have the prettiest eyes, do you know that?" I sigh.

He smirks, raising his eyebrow instead. "You're weird. Go to bed."

"I'm weird?!" I huff playfully. "You must be rubbing off on me."

But without his answer, I lean up to catch his lips in a kiss, and savor their softness as if I'm already saying goodbye. His tug up in a smile as he gives back, and I slide closer to him, letting my arms snake around his torso under the covers.

"Hi," he grins against me, and I giggle stupidly in return.

"Mmm," I groan, "I'm gonna miss my personal tiny space heater!"

"Tiny?!" he asks next, and I can feel the muscles in his face tense up before he pulls back. "You're smaller than me, you know."

"You're fun sized," I tease. "It's not a bad thing."

"Uh huh..." he mumbles, and I quickly peck his lips again, still holding onto his mid section. 

"Why don't you show me somethin' not so tiny..." I hum, nuzzling his chin with a kiss, and he exhales sharply.

"It's average," he admits, and I can't help but laugh. "Seriously!" he follows up with. "If you're looking for size-"

"Are you honestly asking me if you're-" I start, confused but amused as hell, but he apparently isn't.

"I'm not asking, I'm just telling you, he's not so big either."

"He..." I muse, entertained despite his pouting.

"Yes."

"As in-"

"My dick, that thing that you like sucking on from time to time," he states, blinking with a straight face and I gasp before I start laughing, smacking his ass in light scolding.

"What has gotten into you?!" I ask. "Are you worried you're not enough for me or something? Is that why you've been so distant?"

"Well if I'm so tiny-" he grumbles, and I shut him up with a kiss.

When I let him breathe, I don't go far, whispering against his lips. "You are perfect for me," I promise. "I love you, and you have never failed at satisfying me in absolutely any way. So why don't you hush and stop worrying, and let's make use of this bed before it's left empty for the next couple of days..."

He mumbles something into my lips when I kiss him again, and he hesitates, but eventually his arms find their way around me and I am pulled over him, straddling him under the sheets.

And that's the first sex we've had in weeks. I should be happy, right? He isn't avoiding me, we were just busy and maybe he really was just tired before... But something feels off still, and I can't place a finger on it. He's slow and languid, and his focus isn't all there. Maybe it's just because he was already half asleep when he hit the bed, and then that discussion... But either way, we both have a happy ending and I fall asleep next to his warm body, finally close for the first time in ages.

But it's cut short when I have to say goodbye the next day. I promise to call him and let him know if I wanna come to Atlanta or just back to LA after the few days of interviews. He's sweet and Devin has to pull me from his arms, I swear, to get me into the car.

New York isn't bad, but I just don't want to leave him right now. We finally...sort of connected. And I worry about him. Worry about if he's okay, if I hurt him somehow. If he does trust me, or if that's the hole that still needs filled. I know he's got his fingers crossed that I don't do anything stupid this trip, and he's instructed Devin to keep me within sights at all possible times. I'm okay with it...I understand. 

I do convince her to let me out of her line of sight for one night, after reconnecting with Rob Thomas. He's also in the city for something else, and we agree to meet for drinks one night at a bar in SoHo. Devin didn't want to come, but that's okay. She promised to watch Aero for me at the house; she's staying because why not? She doesn't have a place in New York yet, though she's eyeing one. Maybe I'll check my finances and just buy it for her, or just give her a big chunk of change to put down for it. It's the least I could do after everything she's had to fix.

It's probably a good thing she doesn't come, though, because I definitely get a little buzzed and start talking about things I don't want to talk about...including the fact that I was just told I shouldn't have kids. He didn't even ask, but we've just been blabbering and catching up, so when Robert came up...it just kind of spilled out in a drunken rant. Guess my mind's still stuck on it somewhere, ya know?

"So I take it you two are serious then, huh?" he asks, sipping at his beer from the other side of the table and I sit back against the booth back with my drink in hand. "Last time you weren't too sure."

"We were fine. Then we weren't. Then we were again. And now he's gonna leave when he finds out I can't give him a baby," I somehow manage to say, though I think I'm being kind of loud and I'm probably slurring some words...but this is how it's playing in my head right now.

"I thought you're fine?" he laughs, a bit tipsy himself, and I shrug.

"We didn't have sex for a month, dude," I admit with a heavy breath, waving my hand in the air like an idiot. And then my phone buzzes on the table, and I glance at it, noting Robert's name and an incoming message lighting up the screen. "And there he is now."

"Uh oh," Rob laughs.

But I open the message, and it's a question. He's being protective again, apparently, because he sends me a photo someone here must have taken, followed with:

TS: You having fun?

R: just catching up, luv u

Oops. 'Luv' is definitely gonna tip him off. I mean, I'm never as correct as he is, but I usually write out whole words for that kind of stuff.

"Everything okay?" Rob asks, and I nod, still attached to my phone.

"He's just being a butt," I answer. "He's clingy sometimes."

He bursts out laughing at that, which makes me laugh, but I try to focus on reading his next text back to me instead.

TS: You need a ride home? Where are you?

R: ur in atlnta

Whoops, another typo.

TS: I can still call a car. Just let me know where you are so someone can make sure you get home safe, please. I love you.

R: love you too handsome

And I never do tell him what bar we're at. I probably should, but I'm a little annoyed that he can't let me have my own fun without him, since he didn't want to come with me. Okay, maybe that's rude of me to say. He didn't choose not to, he had stuff for work. But still, we could've worked something out. And hell, we've been here for like an hour, maybe two tops. How the hell does he know we're here? Is he skimming the internet to babysit while we're apart?

"Clingy's not a bad thing," Rob answers after I put the phone down. "Just means he cares."

"I know," I sigh. "He just wanted to say goodnight," I lie.

And then there's talk about the album. He congratulates me, and I tell him about the tour, and about the video dropping during the Grammys. He's apparently invited and he would get me tickets if he could, but since it's next week, there's no hope of that. All of the spares have either been gifted out, sold, or raffled off to fans via radio station or contests. It's fine; I'll be busy, anyway.

But about a half hour later, a very annoyed looking Devin comes strolling over to our table, her hair up and a hat on to mask her face, and she grabs my phone, pocketing it in her coat.

"Come on," she demands, and I scowl at her from the booth.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't need your boyfriend sending me on errands because you're drunk and won't answer him," she snaps. "So now I'm taking you home."

"That's okay," Rob chimes in, grabbing his coat and standing. "I should get going, anyway. Have to call the missus before bed."

So I grumpily accept and go say goodbye, then follow her back to the car which returns us to the hotel in silence. She's not mad at me, she's just mad that Robert can't trust me, which we already knew.

But she lets it go, hurrying me along in the morning to a couple radio interviews about the album and the new label, and then at night...my return to Fallon. By myself. This is the first time I'm going to be doing a TV interview like this without the help of Robert, but I think I can handle it. I'm just doing a small interview segment, and a performance of Make Me, and he'll announce the release date for the album for me to try and help advertise.

It's surreal, coming back onto the stage, but he greets me with a big, open hug, and I feel comfortable since we've already chatted before and I got to know him a little the last time we were here. The crowd is just as excited, reacting to their cue cards, and there's no stress.

"Welcome back," he starts once I'm seated and the audience settles down, and I fold my hands in my lap and sit politely, smiling widely.

"Thank you," I answer warmly, glancing at the guests momentarily. "Wow..." And then back to Jimmy across the desk.

"Things have changed a ton since we last talked," he comments, leaning over the desk, and I grin, nodding down at my lap for a second before my eyes rest back on him.

"There's been a lot..." I agree.

Devin's watching me somewhere from side stage, and I can feel her eyes on my back, but I'm not going to let it get to me. Be confident, Robert begged. So I'm going to do my best to push down the nerves and make sure I'm confident for him.

"You have an album coming out," he starts with, digging for the copy of it to display on the desk, and that's when the audience cheers and applauds, which makes me laugh.

I blush, pointing to the self titled debut. "That's me!"

"That?" he asks, checking it out as he turns it to himself. "Are you sure? They could've just photoshopped..."

"Put my face on someone else's body?" I laugh.

"Or someone else's body on your face," he suggests, but then holds it up and looks between the two of us. "No, that looks like you."

"Does it?" 

"Yeah..." He sets it back down, then focuses back on me. "So that's coming out, uh...you have your own label now, don't you?"

"Technically it's Robert's," I correct. "He just got one of his crazy ideas and next thing I know, he's got me in this studio in Santa Monica with his name slapped on the side of the building."

"He really is Tony Stark, isn't he?"

"Oh, he is," I laugh, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. 

"So you two are still dating," he counters, and I was expecting as much; everyone always asks, so I guess I have to start getting used to it.

"Yeah," I confirm. "We're going on a year here, soon."

"Already?!" he asks, wide eyed with his hands on the desk. "Wow. Wow, okay, yeah. I guess it was last spring you all were here..."

"It's been a year of adjustments, that's for sure," I agree.

"Speaking of," he jumps to next. "You posted this photo..." He holds up another card, the one of Robert and I from the bathroom. "And everyone's been speculating."

"You could've just texted me," I state, blinking, and he hesitated, the smile fading from his face before he bursts out into laughter.

"Well, that's not-"

"I would've answered," I toss back, enjoying this playful banter that leaves me comfortable and not worried about how I sound...plus, it's making the crowd laugh, so hopefully that's playing positively on my image a little bit. 

"Well I'm asking you now," he presses.

"You technically haven't asked," I joke.

"Well, so what's the story? Are you two living together?"

I blush, biting my lip. "He...asked me to move in, yes."

"And you said yes, I take it."

"I did," I nod again. "It's been...interesting. Different than what I expected."

"Is he hard to live with?" Jimmy asks, and I laugh, rolling my eyes in amusement.

"It's actually the opposite," I tease. "He's never home. I swear, we only see each other to sleep. Like now, it's just my manager and I here this week, and he's off working on a project somewhere else."

"That's vague."

"That's...under wraps," I smirk. "I can't tell you anything yet. But he's been working on a ton."

"So you've both been super busy," Jimmy concludes. "And your album is dropping on the 17th, which is a-"

"Friday," I finish for him. "Yeah."

"And your birthday is just a few days later."

"It is!" I clap, excited as I readjust in my seat. "I can't believe it's so soon!"

"You'll be...thirty...one?" he guesses, trying to read his notes without making it obvious, and I nod.

"I'm old," I sigh. "I don't remember getting this old but here we are."

"That's not old," he chuckles. "I'm not even gonna tell you how old I am..."

"Nineteen," I guess quickly with narrowed eyes, and he doubles over with laughter again. "What?!"

"If I'm dropping years I want to at least be drinking age!"

"Okay, so twenty one!" I counter.

"Twenty three!" he offers instead, so I agree. "You can be twenty one."

"Anything under thirty.

"We'll just celebrate your third twenty ninth birthday this year, then," Fallon settles on, which makes me giggle.

"Okay." I'm totally cool with that. "Just have my twenty ninth every year?"

"Exactly!"

"I'll hold you to that," I joke. "When I'm like seventy, I expect a birthday card that says happy twenty ninth birthday."

"I'll have to send it from my grave," he answers with a huff, and I cover my face with my hands. 

"You said you're twenty three!"

"That's right!" he answers. "Okay...okay, I'll make sure I send you one every year."

"I look forward to it."

But then he brings the album back out and holds it up. "We're out of time right now, but stay tuned and right after the break, we'll have miss Rachel Thomas on the stage performing her first single off of her self titled debut album!"

And the performance goes smoothly, and Devin's actually happy with me for once. There's no mention of the drugs or of anything negative. Jimmy just announces the album release date one more time, and then we're headed back to the hotel. We have a free day tomorrow until the jet is ready in the evening, so we're planning a girl's day. We haven't had one in a while. After that, she's back to LA, working with Delilah to finalize everything for the drop, and then I decide to go to Atlanta to spend a week or so with Robert, trying to make up for that awkward encounter through text about the night I was spotted with Rob at the bar. Hopefully now that things have gone smoothly in terms of interviews, he'll be a little more open...hopefully.


	94. Chapter 94

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if anyone here is even still reading this lmao but anyway enjoy this fun little roller coaster that'll probably make you stop reading..

Atlanta's...interesting. Devin's taken Aero home with her, housing him since I don't want him on set and Robert hasn't been staying at the house for the few days he's there. The first couple of days I have to take some calls, but other than that, he lets me meet with the director and the stage crew, and he shows me around what's going on. I haven't read the script yet, so it's hard to pinpoint exactly what to picture, but I promise him I'll do it as soon as we get back to LA. I've been keeping up with his schedule a little more, too, wanting to keep in tune with what he's doing. I feel bad about leaving everything go and not being as interested in his work, so I'm going to work on changing that, for sure.

He doesn't say much about New York. He tells me he's proud of me briefly a few days after I join him there but doesn't mention Rob or the night he was stalking my social media mentions.. Shortly after that quick hello and welcome back,he's back into work, and a day or so later, he's distracted when Chris Evans winds up face timing the director to see what's going on. So I wander off, snooping on the main stage and chatting with some of the crew about what he's been up to while he goes on a virtual tour with his boss's phone.

When they're called back to work, I hang out in the set chairs watching as they build something or other that I can't name yet, until Devin texts me a photo of Aero to prove that he's still alive and well. I've been a cat mom, nagging her.

D: There, happy?!

R: very :D tell him he's a pretty boy

D: I'm not doing that

speaking of pretty boys, what did yours think of the interviews?

I sigh, not knowing what to say. I've been frustrated, honestly. He's been kind, and happy, but he's just seemed...borderline depressed, if I had to guess. But he's not really sad, so...I don't know. Just quiet? Mature. Mature, maybe that's it. That childish weirdness he usually holds hasn't been there for a while.

R: dunno honestly. he's not really giving me much.

D: i swear to God if you guys fight again...

R: I don't think we are...he just seems...bored?

Maybe he's bored of me...

D: how is he bored when he just had me looking all over the city for you?

R: well, that's different. i dont know.

he's not really interested in sex right now and he's just a little distant. i know i fucked up, but that was a month ago...

D: maybe it's something else

I sigh. Maybe she's right, I don't know. So I back out of her thread and go for his. He's not face timing on his personal, so maybe he'll check his when he's done. But I just wanna send something happy...maybe to lift his spirits.

R: Hey weirdo, you know I love you, right? If you don't, I love you. <3

And then I head back over to Devin.

R: Maybe... he's off face timing Chris, so I'll talk to him about it later i guess.

D: Chris like Evans Chris?! 

good lord, please have him share!

Of course she'd have some sort of crush on his co star...she never did meet him at that award show we went to, so they haven't been introduced yet... I assume they will be soon, probably if I'm on set with him for this Avengers when it starts filming. I can only imagine what she's going to do with that connection...

R: Please don't be weird when you meet. I dont need to find you in his bed

D: please, like you wouldn't wanna get into bed with that...

R: I have Bobby!

D: but CHRIS. EVANS. rachel!

if you didn't have robert you know you'd do him

Sighing in amusement and not sure how to respond, I put down the phone to go grab a drink from the fridge in the main area of his living trailer, and then plop back down on the bed and take a breath, biting my lip before I type out a new message.

R: i guess out of all his friends id sleep with chris. not like much is happening right now anyway. i'm kinda just...you think he even still loves me?

Without a second thought I hit send. I should regret that, right? Because maybe it's all in my head. But instead, I have a pit in my stomach. Did I push him away with that little drug habit? He said I didn't, but...

There's several moments of silence before I glance back at the feed. Maybe she's busy with the label or something, I don't know. But instead, my heart freezes and I feel a chill as I start to panic. Dumb ass me hit the wrong feed and sent it to Robert instead, and shit....shit shit shit, this is going to end bad. I need to find his phone and delete that or...or do I apologize? What if he has his phone? No, he was on someone else's...

Stumbling out of bed, I ditch my phone and immediately run for his bag, hoping to God that he left his personal phone somewhere in here since we're together and he doesn't need to be on it all day. I can't tell if I'm remembering to breathe, but this is the absolutely last thing I need to happen right now. I don't know what's going on, but it didn't sound like a joke, and that last part...fuck. Fuck, I didn't mean that, I just...

I dig through his stuff, pulling a few shirts out and leaving them lie on the floor, and then the dreaded sound of footsteps on the trailer stairs shakes the unit, and light is suddenly pouring through the door frame with a rush of warm air.

"Rach, I think we need to talk," I hear and I immediately stop searching, holding my breath as I turn around and spot Robert staring at the phone in his hand from the entry way of the trailer.

"Bobby, I am so sorry," I start, stepping toward him carefully. "I was texting Devin and she was asking all of these stupid questions and-"

But he holds up his hand and looks at me. My heart sinks immediately. He's frowning more than I've ever seen, his eyebrows pressed together with a mixture of sadness and concern. He's hurt. Bad. And it's my fault.

"You weren't supposed to get that," I press, stammering through the only words that come to my mouth. "I meant to send that to her, and I backed out of her thread and when I searched her, Stargell is right next to Stark, and you're in there as Stark still and I must've hit the wrong one by accident and-"

"Stop," he says simply.

His voice isn't raised. He's not acting angry. He's completely unlike himself, even more so after the last month, and I know the damage has been done. 

"Robert," I whisper, placing my hand on his arm.

He shrugs out of it, turning his eyes away.

"Please listen, I-"

And suddenly, he squeezes the phone and throws it past the bathroom and into the kitchenette space in his trailer, sending it crashing into the wall. It falls to pieces on the ground, and I freeze, breathing deeply. This is the first time he's ever shown physical aggression. The first time he's ever reminded me of Charlie. Before it was just scolding, just his unknown parental side coming out. But this...this is anger.

"You don't think I love you anymore?!" he shouts next, stepping toward me with his fists clenched at his sides. "That it's okay to go spend the night with someone else?! Are you fucking serious?!"

I swallow nervously and stare at his now dark eyes, heavy with accusation. It's now I realize I'm shaking, but he doesn't notice it. I can't form words, and he doesn't stop yelling.

He cracks his jaw, his face like stone as he glares down at me. "I've given you a place to live, helped you start a career, shared my fucking life with you for the past fifteen months, and you seriously think I just 'don't care'?!"

"I didn't say that, I just-" I argue with a small voice, but he interrupts.

"No! Zip it! Unless you want to explain why the fuck you think you can just go...shit, have sex with someone I know, one of my friends-"

"I didn't!" I scream back, my eyes starting to cloud up with water. "I was being dramatic and talking shit with Devin, he had nothing to do with it! He doesn't even know I wrote that! We don't talk unless you're there!"

"Yet he's the one you think about, isn't it?" he presses.

"No! Are you seriously going back to this?!" I gasp, remembering the many times he's been jealous of Chris around me before.

"Then who?" he asks next, ignoring my question. "Because I'm obviously not good enough for you."

I can feel my heart break and my blood start to boil at the same time and hot tears start to stain my cheeks. "I didn't say that!"

"I'm sorry," he snaps sarcastically, "did you or did you not just try to send a text to your best friend telling her I'm not giving you enough attention?!"

"You're making this bigger than it needs to be, Tony!" I yell back, defending myself for once and stepping into his face.

Ignoring my character comparison, he continues. "What is it? Huh?!" he yells, stepping forward. "The money? You want your share before you go?"

"No!"

"Or the age. That's it, isn't it? You think I'm too old?"

"You're being ridiculous!"

"If that's how you feel then maybe you should just go," he growls with a raised hand, just to point at me, kinda like that scene in Empire Strikes Back between Leia and Han in the tunnel, and...

Anyway, I don't see it as that at first, and before I hear his next argument, I flinch and turn my head, my eyes shut tightly as I tense and wait. Wait for what, I don't know, but something painful. Something like he used to do. After his yelling at the house after that night with the drugs, and then the wing chun incident...

"You never look at me anymore!" I cry loudly, while I anticipate the contact, but nothing comes besides more tears through my still shut eyes. "I didn't mean anything in that message, but you don't care about my shit, and I'm stressing out about everything fucking changing in two weeks. You don't touch me like you used to, and you never want to talk about your day, me, us...anything!"

It's silent for the first time since the argument started and I convince myself somehow to finally open my eyes, slowly turning back to him. To say he looks the complete opposite is an understatement. He's no longer angry at me, but I guess himself, because his eyes are wide and afraid. His hands are shaking slightly, his mouth trying to find words, and his eyes have a different kind of pain in them...guilt.

"Rach..." he manages in a softer voice, slowly reaching out a hand, but I step back, flinching again at his reach. "Rachel, please," he begs, forgetting ever last bit of anger he held. "I'd never hurt you, I swear I wasn't-"

"You're no better than you used to be, are you?! Big name celebrity who still has a temper when he doesn't like what's happening. Might as well be using again " I spit angrily, immediately hating myself for saying it. "I'm leaving." I side step him and grab my bag from the side table instead, pulling to make sure I miss him completely when I pass. "Just like you want. Don't follow me!"

"Rachel!" he calls after me, thankfully ignoring the part about his past.

I hear his footsteps close behind anyway as I speed walk to my car in the lot, feeling the burn of eyes on us; this is exactly the scene I didn't want to cause.

"Rachel, stop!"

"Robert!" someone from the crew interrupts from across the lot. "Kev wants you on stage six for something!"

"Give me a fucking minute!" he snaps back, shooing them away with his hand.

Finally, I reach the car and open the door to drop my bag in before myself, but he stops me, holding it closed as soon as I crack it open.

"Please don't go," he begs quietly, but doesn't touch me; he knows he's messed up and doesn't want to chance it.

It kills me, but before I can think, the dramatic words slip from my mouth...the only thing I can say to get him to leave me alone...the same thing that's always worked with most everyone else in the past. "I don't love you."

I try to look serious when I meet his eyes, but his brown orbs stare back and I can tell he isn't buying it. He holds my gaze, apologizing silently, until he finally steadies himself.

"Rachel Marie Thomas, don't lie to me," he pleads.

I look down, still holding onto the door, and say nothing. I can't process anything. All I can think of is Charlie. The violence, the leaving, the begging... My heart physically hurts as I understand the situation.

"I promised I wasn't going anywhere, so I expect the same thing out of you," he says softly and slowly, focusing on how his voice sounds. "Now, obviously we have some stuff to talk about, just you and me...but I don't care how mad I am, babe, I never, ever, ever meant we should break up."

"What?" I whisper, looking up with wet eyes, chest tightening even further.

"That's what you think, right?" he asks, looking sad once again. "Rachel, I just meant take a walk, not leave forever. And I swear to God, I wasn't going to lay a hand on you. I was just pointing, it was stupid. You believe me, right?"

I frown, still trembling as I search his eyes...for what I don't know. All I give him is silence and he runs his hand through his hair, breathing hard as he blinks ferociously. I've never seen him cry...ever...and I suddenly realize I've always known he wouldn't do anything to me.

However, my silence is not received the way my brain is working, and he lets go of the car door slowly. "Okay. If you want to go, I'm not gonna stop you. But if you want to stay..just...just tell me what to do to fix this..."

"Kiss me," I decide without even a second thought.

This time, he's confused. "What?"

"Kiss me," I ask again. "And not...quick, or simple, or... Kiss me like you mean it, Robert. Like you still want me, like...like you still fucking love me."

His brow is still pressed together in fear and sadness, he swallows and straightens up, allowing me room to turn toward him, waiting. His chocolate eyes flash across my own, searching for everything he can read, and his hands hesitatingly lift, careful to not make any sudden or unwanted movements. When I don't flinch, he presses them softly on my cheeks, thumb grazing my lips as he takes in my broken face. I blink away my own tears, feeling terrible at how messed up he looks, and steady my breathing again. Then, a small amount at a time, he leans down, tilting his head slightly as he focuses on my lips, holding back for almost too long. He breathes against my lips, his eyes flickering closed finally, and then he's pressing them against my wet, tear laden mouth, trembling in just the slightest. I don't back off, so he takes the opportunity to move his mouth against mine, parting slowly once, then twice, then three times as he feels every line on my lips. Finally, he adds tongue, drawing mine out, and I can feel it when his face scrunches up more, fighting back almost crying again...it's a feeling I know well, personally, and when I realize he's putting every ounce of emotion into this kiss, like he won't get to again, water escapes from the corner of my closed eyes. Slowly, my hands find his wrists, holding on as he slowly parts and reapplies pressure, drawing it out like it's the last time...in case I decide it is. His heart is beating fast and I can feel it in his pulse right before he slowly withdraws, placing a final, lingering peck that seems to last a lifetime.

It's a few moments after we part that I finally blink my eyes open and find him staring at me, waiting for any kind of reaction, his own wildly scanning my face. I've never seen him this concerned before, not even with Charlie, and it makes me struggle more with my tears, crying softly as he continues moving his thumb in light circles.

"I love you, Rachel," he whispers. "So fucking much. And if that doesn't prove that, then by all means, drive away...but please, babe, please just give us a chance to talk. Okay, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I lost my temper..."

I swallow, chills running down my spine as I slowly exhale. "I love you too."

I see him visibly relax and his eyes close in relief, and then he's pulling me into a tight hug, his arms holding me as close to him as possible in case I slip away. His lips meet the top of my head and I inhale his familiar scent, clinging onto his shirt material. Then, I can't stop it and I'm crying...bawling, really...and he's hushing me soothingly as he pats my head and buries his face into my hair, hoping his strong arms bring comfort to me.

"Rob!" he's reminded about Kevin, and I can tell by his voice that he snaps a glare at the guy.

"I'm fucking busy, give me ten minutes, okay?"

They must agree, because then he's back to trying to calm me down as I shake.

"It's okay, sweetheart..." he coos. "I promise you it's all okay. Lets just go sit down, we'll talk this out, and we'll figure it out. But I need you to trust me, okay? Just trust me that whatever is said, it will be okay."

I nod into his chest, pushing back to look up at him. "Okay..." I whisper in agreement.

He smiles for the first time, soft and faint, but there, as he moves his hands to wipe away my tears. "Good. Okay. Stop crying, beautiful... Please? You're too pretty to be so upset..."

I choke out a giggle, leaning my face into his palm in comfort. I honestly have no idea what we were even fighting about at this point, because all I want to do is hold onto him and never leave, never stop breathing in his cologne or stop feeling the brush of his beard on my cheek when he kisses the wetness there. Instead, he leads me away, waving his hand for everyone to disperse.

"Show's over," he grunts, taking my hand and helping me back into our space.

When we're inside, he shuts the door, locking it, and places his hand on my back as he motions toward the edge of the bed...somewhere for us to sit. I do so nervously and stare at my hands as they ring together, as they usually do when I'm anxious. The bed drops with his weight and I feel his strong arm wrap around my waist, pulling me into his side with a long, heavy sigh.

"There's something I need to tell you," he begins quietly, and immediately, my heart rate panics me again. He must notice, because he quickly adds, "relax...I promised you we'd be fine, right? Everything is going to be fine."

I wait in silence, nodding against his side.

"I probably should've brought this up sooner, but it's not really...every day conversation, and there hasn't really been a time..." he rambles, groaning when he realizes that doesn't sounds too great. "No one really knows this, so I'm trusting you, okay?"

I nod again, unable to find words as I stare at his hand on my lap.

"You remember that first weekend you were on the Iron Man set? When we started officially dating and you wore that...heavenly little lace number...?"

I roll my eyes, letting out a small laugh in hiccup form. "Yeah..."

"Okay," he exhales, obviously nervous. "Well, that's kind of one of my kinks, I guess. The control...you, or me, doesn't matter."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that out," I squeak out, and he laughs, leaning down to kiss the top of my head again.

"Well...Rach, I love you, you know that, right?"

I nod slowly, worried. "I do, I didn't mean what I texted..."

"Absolutely nothing about what I'm going to tell you is going to change that, okay? I promise, I swear on my life. So please...please don't assume anything from this."

I finally lift my head, pushing myself to look at his serious face. "Bobby, you're scaring me..." I admit.

He fakes a smile, sighing. "Don't be. It's just...well, sometimes... Okay, Rach, sometimes I like that dominance, but...kinda the opposite role..."

I narrow my eyes, confused. "Like...you want me to be in charge in bed?"

"You," he agrees, "or...anyone, really."

I blink, not understanding, and panicking a little bit, despite him telling me not to. "Are you-"

"No!" he answers swiftly, knowing what I'm going to ask. "God, no. It's only you, babe, and it always will be only you unless you get sick of me. Promise." He presses his lips together for a moment. "There's very, very few people I've admitted this to, but...Rach, I'm bi."

I blink, making sure I heard him right. "Huh?"

"Bisexual. I like girls. And guys. I mean, mainly girls, but..." He tries to find words that aren't too awkward to explain. "I'm not bored of you, and I swear I've just been quiet because I've been so busy. Okay, and we'll fix that, I promise...now that I know it's a problem, we'll work on it. Now, the touching...it's a little of both, I guess. It's not that I don't want to... I just, I want to get back to how we were before your stuff, and I get in moods, I guess, and as much as I love our sex life...wild and perfect as it is... Occasionally I kinda crave...bottoming..." he admits sheepishly.

"Like..."

He shrugs, looking guilty again. "Yeah. Weird. It's weird, isn't it?"

"I..." I start, trying to wrap my mind around the information, then blink back up at him. "No. It's not. I kinda...well, I sort of heard a rumor, way back before I met you, but..."

He chuckles. "Yeah, it tends to come and go and I just ignore it till it does."

"So, you...like guys..." I mumble, still stunned it's true.

He frowns, nodding. "Sometimes. Not often. More so, just the...backdoor stuff...and the dominance..."

"Which we've done," I comment, at least about taking turns being in control.

He agrees. "Yeah. And I know I've always been pretty straight forward, but it's still a little weird, as a 'straight' guy, asking someone to...well, to be quite blunt, fuck you in the ass, so..."

I'm quiet, thinking as he watches me, trying to get a feel for the situation.

"Rach, I swear this doesn't change anything at all, okay. You need to trust me...I know I didn't tell you up front, but that doesn't change that I want a girlfriend...fuck, a wife, a family one day... It's something that's always been a part of me, even before you knew."

I blink blankly again. "So that's why we haven't-"

"No!" he laughs. "No, no, no, no, no! God, no. Babe, our sex life is amazing. Far from boring. I just need to mix it up sometimes and didn't know how to tell you, so..."

"So, you want me to, uh..."

"I'm not gonna make you do anything you don't want to," he promises. "That's something we can discuss, on your terms... But please, babe, please don't feel like I don't want you or I don't love you. I promise...if anything ever changes, we'll talk about it first, try to fix it...like this. But you make me incredibly happy and never for a second since I met you have I wanted anything, absolutely anything, other than you."

I nod, thinking. This is definitely not the conversation I thought I'd be having right now, but it's not the worst, either. I kind of always thought what I heard was true, but just pushed it to the back of my mind.

"I know it'll be weird...at first. Adjusting to it. I don't expect you to be okay right now. And I know I've kinda been an ass, I guess, not telling you what was up and everything. But this doesn't have to change anything," he goes on, practically begging me to understand, and it finally breaks me down.

"Okay," I decide. "Okay. It's a little weird...but...I'll work with it," I agree.

He sighs in relief, pulling me back against him. "This is why I love you."

I force a smile and he frowns, lifting my chin with his finger.

"You still love me too, right?"

I sigh, myself, analyzing his eyes. "Yes, just...no more surprises, okay?"

"I promise," he agrees, leaning down to place a soft kiss on my lips. "You're still my girl, the one I want here every night. Nothing is going to change that. We'll still go on dates and have sex and..."

I giggle, finally moving to hug him back. "It's okay, Bobby..." Then, after a moment, "just be prepared, because we're going to do some shopping..." I tease.

He pushes back, biting his lip with his eyebrow raised. "You want to-"

"I'll try," I correct before he can conclude. "I'm not gonna lie, I don't feel entire comfortable doing...that...but-"

"You don't have to-"

"-if it makes you happy, I want to at least try," I finish, cutting him off.

"Okay," he agrees quietly. "Okay...we can talk more about this tonight, but...Kev needs me for some stuff and I got a couple moldings for the suit after this so I've got a packed afternoon. Are you gonna be okay by yourself for a bit?"

I nod, sighing heavily. I don't even know how to answer that, but I guess I have to be. A little quiet time to process wouldn't be a bad thing, right? Not after this hell of a morning.


	95. Chapter 95

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whattt, two chapters in one night?!

I don't remember falling asleep but sometime while the sun was still up I must have dozed off. Robert had gone to finish doing whatever he was needed for with his director for the day, working later into the evening than anticipated, and despite our discussion, I was still too shaken up to be productive. I wanted to call Devin but didn't want to talk about it just yet, and my mom would just scold me that he's to old or his life is too complicated or whatever... So, I layed down on the bed, and let my emotions get the best of me, gripping the pillow and letting out the tears that needed to come. I must have cried myself to sleep.

It isn't a bad cry, it's just one of those cries where you need to let the stress out, you know? Like we discussed it, so we're on the same page. I understand. I'm not too surprised. But with how pent up I've been since he found out what I was doing...I'm almost just feeling so relieved that I'm upset, as if that makes any sense...

Anyway, I'm not even fully awake, but I stir when I hear a rustle of the sheets and the bed dips down with added weight. Robert's scent hits my nose before I even open my eyes, followed by his strong arms wrapping around me and pulling me close to his body. He intertwines his fingers with mine and then I feel his lips on my neck before he settles in and quietly holds on.

After a few quiet moments, I squeeze his hands, holding them against my chest in content.

"Did I wake you?" he whispers, but doesn't dare move.

"Yeah, but it's okay," I send back, eyes still closed, but I press further back into his body. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

He breathes deeply, running his thumbs across my hands as he holds them. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I just want to hold my girlfriend for a little while..."

He sounds sad, and I know he's beating himself up inside. He's trying to fix it, even after we talked, and I don't know how to make it better, so I kiss his hands lazily and feel the rise and fall of his chest behind me until mine syncs up. The only plus? There's something extremely content about the silence that follows. No words are needed. No small talk, no long, detailed discussions... Just his heart beating with mine and his facial hair brushing against my neck just above my shoulder.

Eventually, I realize I can't sleep again without wearing myself out; I have no idea what time it is, but I feel too guilty still over the message in the first place. Writing that about Chris like it was okay...

"I'm sorry, Robert..." I whisper, as sincere as I can make it.

"Don't," he tries to comfort, but I'm too emotional as I cling onto his hands.

"I should've come to you. I should've said something, or-"

"Babe, please stop," he begs, tightening his grip around me. "You were right...I have a temper and I take advantage of this popularity sometimes." He hesitates. "You don't really think I'm using again, do you...?"

It's so soft it hurts and I can tell he's holding his breath as he tries to be patient. He's really desperate...hopeful I won't say yes. I don't have a reason to, either way.

"No," I promise. "I trust you. I was upset, and-"

"Stop apologizing," he orders politely, letting out his held breath.

I don't know how to answer so I stop talking, sighing into his body mold. His thumbs are moving more wildly, restless. I can feel him place a few frantic kisses on my neck again, and then he tangles his legs with min, feet against my own like he needs to be as close as possible. It's cute, but the reasoning behind it makes my chest hurt...and my back, when I realize there's a metal, circular ring pressing against my back.

"You kept that thing on?" I question, realizing it's probably the outline of the arc for CGI when they put the suit on Tony, despite his character not having it implanted anymore.

"I'm not entirely done with the fitting..." he admits. "It's gonna be a long night, so they let me take a half hour break."

"And you came here?" I asked, stunned. "To lay on the bed?"

"Of course," he murmurs, then I feel him swallow...a sign of his discomfort, and when he speaks again, it's barely audible and his voice cracks, confirming just that. "I'm so, so sorry, Rachel..."

I sigh, listening intently, his tone breaking my heart once more.

"I promised you I'd never hurt you..." he goes on.

"You didn't," I try to comfort, but he dismisses it. "I just...sometimes when you raise your voice I just think of him, but it isn't the same. You're not him."

"Rachel, stop. I did. Maybe I didn't touch you, but that look on your face... God, Rach, you've never been so afraid...and of me. You just waited...waited for me to....to hit you..." he forces out, disgusted by the word. "I never meant to, baby, I swear to God...I swear I was just pointing...just being expressive, dramatic... I would never, ever take my anger out on you like that."

"I know," I whisper, squeezing his hands quickly for reassurance.

He sighs. "You didn't. I was supposed to be the one to protect you...to make you feel safe. And I fucked up. I fucked up, big time...and I don't know how to forgive myself. I don't know how you can forgive me. And...I know he's probably promised the same thing, but if you let me, I'm going to spend the rest of my God damned life trying to make it up to you."

"That's a bold statement," I say with a light chuckle, which takes him off guard because he's quiet for a moment.

Then, completely serious, "I mean it. Forever. I'm never going to do anything like that again."

My eyes open. "Forever?" I ask, confusion clouding my face.

I wriggle in his arms until he lets me turn, facing him and seeing his face for the first time since earlier. The dark light doesn't give much, but it's enough to see how pained he looks. His brown eyes are dark with heartbreak, his eyebrows pressed together. When he notices the dried tears on my cheeks, he brushes the hair from my face and runs his thumb over their trail when he cups my cheek. I let mine wander up his chest, pressed between us.

"I'm serious..." he confirms, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Robert..." I breathe, and for the first time, he smirks at me.

He kisses my forehead lightly, then rests his against mine, taking my hand in his. "I'm gonna marry you, Rach. Maybe not next month or next year or... I just know it. And don't worry, it'll be when you least expect it...a surprise. Everything you've ever wanted. But I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

I can't help but feel like crying again, even with how exhausted my eyes are. I bite my lip, holding out as long as I can before sliding my hand up to his cheek.

"I love you so much," I squeak. "You're...erratic, and egocentric, and insane more often than not, but I am completely lost to you, Robert John Downey Jr."

He grins, glancing at my lips, then pulls me in for a soft kiss, gentle. He strokes my hair a few times before puling back.

"You're too beautiful for your own good..." he teases. "But I love you, too."

I can't help but laugh at how ridiculous he's being, but it's cut short when he sighs.

"They're gonna be looking for me soon... I'll be careful not to wake you next time," he whispers.

"I'll come with you," I decide suddenly, not wanting to be away from him after that discussion. "If you'll have me..."

He looks too eager when he squeezes my hand in acceptance. "Always. But I'll be pretty late...so if you're tired, that's okay."

I shake my head against the pillows. "I want to watch you, Mr Stark."

His eyebrows flash with a suggestive grin, pulling me in for another soft kiss.

"And then," I add as a whisper into his ear when he pulls away, "when we get back, we're gonna see if this bed still works."

I giggle, rolling onto my back and out of his reach so I can sit up and change into something more comfy.

"Don't look so embarrassed, Mr Downey..." I tease.

"So," he manages, eyes igniting. "You mean...?"

I smirk and change into one of his old Iron Man shirts. "We'll have to wait and see," I answer simply.

He smiles softly, taking my hand and escorting me out and into one of the warehouses across the space. The night's quiet without the bustling of everyone else running around. I assume the rest of the cast will all do their part of the costume design stuff, but since he's here...

It's interesting to watch, really. They paint down his bare chest as he sits in a chair, making the mold for the front of the suit. Then while he's standing they press him into a back piece. It's a little easier for this movie, they tell me, considering they already have his previous suits from the other movies, but I guess the designs change on them each movie so they want to remold. Plus, he's been losing weight, so it might not match up correctly anymore...

While they wipe him down so they can move to the arm pieces, he sticks out his tongue from his stool and I can't help but giggle, tossing my legs over the side of one of the chairs I'm in and leaning back to get comfy. 

"This is the most still I've ever seen you," I tease quietly, and the guys working on him chuckle, knowing how active he always is as well.

"It's killing me," he admits.

He usually moves his leg or something, even when he should be still, but they're being really strict so he can't do that right now. I know it must be painful for him to follow their instructions, but he's been through this before...

"All of this for half a suit?" I ask, and the man to his right nods. "We'll dip them into plastic and then file it down to size next time he's in. Then they send it to sand and paint and we'll revisit closer to the start of filming in the summer."

"The best part is when they measure my legs," Robert chimes in, and I roll my eyes, groaning.

"You're disturbed in the head," I tell him, smirking as I lay my head back and close my eyes, but he only laughs.

Without realizing it, I must've fallen asleep again after that discussion, because the next thing I know, the lights are dimmed and I can feel myself being lifted, bridal style, into someone's arms. I don't need to ask who; his familiar scent, a mixture of his shampoo, deodorant, and cologne, quickly engulfs me. I sleepily search for his neck with my arms, burying my face in his neck. I'm not fully awake, but I know it's late; last time I checked my phone, it was nearly one in the morning.

"I don't need you tomorrow," I hear faintly...sounds like Jimmy and one of the directors still hanging around with him.

"You have that haircut scheduled, but nothing else, boss."

Yeah, that's definitely Jimmy. Hadn't seen him here all day, but who knows what he was up to.

Robert speaks lightly, I guess trying not to wake me, and it's the sweetest thing possible. I hate fighting with him...but if this is how we make up, I'll take it. He's been cute and cuddly ever since.

"I'll set an alarm this time," he jokes, noting how he was late after that first night we spent on set together here last year.

There's a pause, then I hear Jimmy pipe up again. "So you two are okay?"

Robert sighs, then I feel him shift, probably nodding. "I hope so..."

I feel lips on my hair as he presses a soft kiss there, shifting me in his arms to get a better grip. I feel bad, knowing I'm weighing him down, but I'm still falling in and out of sleep and can't fully wake myself up after the day we've had.

"I love her too much," he whispers, and I know he's watching me sleep when I feel his breath on my hair. Then, he sounds further away; he must've turned back to the guys. "I don't think I'll ever forgive myself..."

"It's a fight, they happen," the director reassures him. "And honestly, I've never seen you two fight."

"We usually don't..." Robert agrees sadly. "She says she's okay, but I still hate myself for being so stupid..."

"You're not stupid," Jimmy laughs lowly. "Just a little...hot headed sometimes."

I can almost hear the smirk in his voice. "Guess Tony's wearing off on me..." Then, he sounds sad again. "I just can't believe I didn't see it...I never meant to be avoiding her..."

"We make mistakes, it happens."

He swallows, probably shooting a thankful look in their direction, then next thing I hear, he's walking off with Jimmy after telling the director he's gonna get me into bed. I hold on tighter as he walks us back to the trailers.

"I told her," Robert says quietly as we move, the light wind pulling at my hair.

"Told her what?" Jimmy asks.

"About me. My sexuality."

Jimmy mumbles in acknowledgment; he's apparently one of the one's who knew, but it doesn't surprise me. "I assume she's okay with it?"

Robert chuckles lightly; I can feel the vibrations through his neck. "She's perfect, Jim..."

"And here I thought the great Robert Downey Jr would never settle down..."

"I know..." he whispers toward me again. "I think she's it, buddy. I know she's it..."

"How long's it been?" He sounds doubtful.

"Almost a year dating...a year and a half since we met."

"Already?"

I can feel him shift as he nods. "I think...I think we're gonna need to take a trip to a jeweler soon..." he decides, and I can't tell if I'm dreaming or not.

"Want me to call someone in?" Jimmy asks.

I don't hear an answer; Robert must be trying to keep quiet in case I'm listening...he's smart. He says goodnight, then manages to get us up into the trailer with ease, taking me straight to bed and laying me down. I cling to his neck, groaning when tries to release me and get changed for bed, and he chuckles lightly.

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he hushes me, kissing my forehead when I finally let go. "I'm just gonna take a quick shower; I'll be back in a few minutes."

"But I promised you sex..." I mumble tiredly, shifting to hug one of the pillows and lazily open my eyes at him.

He grins widely, apparently quite amused with my groggy state. "Not tonight. You're tired, and we have plenty of time." I must look sad, because he quickly adds, "if you're still awake, I'll be glad to stay up and talk with you, though. I miss hearing about your day..."

I huff, knowing he's mentioning earlier, but don't comment on it. "I'll be up," I promise and yawn when I close my eyes again.

I can hear him laugh at my persistence, but next thing I know, the sound of water running and lights being turned out completely blurs together, and then I can feel his wet hair shocking me back up as he climbs into bed and pulls my back against him, spooning me like we usually do.

"How was your shower...?" I murmur, almost inaudible when he clasps his hands over my stomach.

He laughs lightly into my neck, placing a kiss there. "Wow, you weren't kidding."

"Mmm, nope," I mumble back, shifting in his arms to face him. "I wanted my goodnight kiss, at least."

"How could I forget?" he asks quietly and gently kisses me, soft and sweet and simple. "Very relaxing," he admits. "First silence I've had since I laid with you earlier."

I close my eyes, forehead against his chest as he tucks my head under his chin.

"I'm sorry..." I can't help but whisper, but he silences me almost immediately.

"Hey, hey, hey...what did I say? Everything's okay, babe. Let's focus on being happy..."

I mumble in agreement and sigh, content.

"I wanna hear about your week," he adds softly. "If you're up for it..."

I kiss his chest lightly, nodding as I struggle to stay awake. "Fallon says hello...I don't know if you saw it, but he asked about you. I did some writing...a couple interviews...I 'm just nervous about the release, the party's coming up and I have no idea what to wear..."

"I'm so proud of you, baby," he whispers. "This should be fun, embrace it, please."

I mumble, confirming the latter. "I know it is, I just don't know what I'm doing and don't want to fuck up."

I can feel Robert lazily draw on my back with his fingertips as he thinks. I don't mind it; it sends chills down my back and I love it. I could lay here in the dark quiet stillness with him forever if it were possible.

"Well, I'll be there. So don't worry about anything."

"Hmm?" I question with a hum. "I can't keep relying on you."

He takes a deep breath. "Do you not want me to come to the release?" he asks hesitantly. "I'll be done here in a few days, so I'll have time. It's in Nashville? Or in LA?"

"They're sticking to Randy's schedule, so Tennessee I guess. Unless you think we can move it last minute, since technically you're D's boss, but she's my boss so I'm taking the orders from her right now."

His hand runs through my hair. "No. No, we can keep it in Nashville. But I'm informing security and making sure that rat doesn't show his face on your day."

I lift my head from under his and look up at him, a sleepy smile on my face. "You're really protective, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Honey, I don't know if you remember earlier, but I already told you my intentions...so naturally, I'm going to watch over you. Do you want me to back off?"

I lean up to kiss him gently, my hand over the facial hair on his cheek. "Maybe just cool it with the internet stalking when I'm away," I giggle.

"Okay, okay..." It seems to be enough, because he kisses me again, then pulls me back into a hug. "Good, now you're stuck with me," he teases.

"Shit..." I toss back playfully, closing my eyes again. "So back to LA for next week?"

"As long as I'm spending Valentine's Day with you, I don't care," he states, and I groan.

Of course...Valentine's Day. Ugh.

He laughs again, but squeezes me tightly for a brief second. "We'll plan it out later, but I'm doing something special. Accept it."

"Fine..." I grumble. "But you know how cliche this holiday is...just don't show up with heart candy and a big teddy bear, please..."

"What if I'm dressed as the bear?" he muses, and I grunt again, which he laughs at before changing the subject. "So I have a haircut at some point tomorrow-'

"No!" I whine, pouting sleepily, but he ignores it.

"-but I want to spend the rest of the day with you."

"I'd love that," I confirm, sighing with silent happiness in my heart. "I missed you, Bobby..."

"We'll do better, Rach, I promise..." he responds. "Now go back to bed, we have all day tomorrow..."

"I love you," I whisper, accepting his decision.

I feel his hands on my back again as he lightly lulls me into sleep, his chest rising and falling with mine. "Love you more."


	96. Chapter 96

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So have these last few bits been too dramatic? Not dramatic enough? Good? Asking for future reference... Also, remade one of the jackets he wears as Paul Avery in Zodiac, so feel free to lurk those photos on Twitter or IG if you're bored. Now I have a list of stuff people want me to remake of his, LOL.

You'd think after something big like the past day, I'd be relaxed or relieved to know what's been going on. To have things fixed. But right now I just have a thousand questions running through my head. Mostly about him, but also about just...stuff.

They don't hit right away. I have a few seconds of calm, peaceful quietness when I start to wake up. It feels like a repeat of the day I came back here last year...the day after he decided to call me his girlfriend. Just like then, there's a faint bit of light in the windows. I'm so used to getting up early for rehearsals or the gym that I can't sleep in. The break is nice, but not when it's this early. And also just like then, there's an arm heavy across my waist, holding me against a warm body that's exhaling slowly against my shoulder. It's so comfortable, so familiar...but also something I've been missing since things were a little off; we rarely woke up like this over the past few weeks, and when we did, it was brief, just a short time before he detached himself to either get out of bed or roll over on his own.

I can feel how slowly his heart is beating, and I know he's still asleep, so I try to reach for my phone with a yawn...something to distract me; I haven't checked it since I accidentally sent that text. But his hold on me tightens and I feel his nose press against my neck when I stretch and grab it, pulling me back into his chest with an incoherent groan.

"'s not time to get up yet..." he mumbles, barely audible, and I'm pretty sure he's still asleep, honestly.

Closing my eyes momentarily and taking a breath, I find myself biting my lip with a grin. And then I enjoy a few more minutes of his hold while I look through my notifications, until I can safely pry his arm off and replace myself with a pillow that he holds on to instead. There's quite a few messages from Dev and a voicemail from her and my mom and now I'm concerned.

Grabbing one of his Versace hoodies from the closet that I know he keeps here for lazy days when he wants to be comfy, I head outside in my pajama pants and call Devin. I'm probably in for it...maybe something happened at the studio...or something went wrong with the CD jewel orders? Ugh, great, now my stomach's doing flips and twists in worry...

Until she finally answers and sounds annoyed.

"Seriously?" she grunts, and I can tell she's still asleep; shit, didn't think about time differences.

"Fuck, I'm on east coast time..." I sigh, "I'll call you back later, sorry..."

Sitting on the steps of the trailer, I run my hand through my hair; it's eerily quiet, but it's early and production hasn't officially started until everything's that built has been moved in and assembled, so I guess this is normal?

"Well I'm up now," she huffs on the other end of the line. "Where the hell have you been? I called you like five times last night."

"More than that..." I mumble. "What's the big issue?"

"I dunno, you tell me. Jimmy said you two had a domestic on set."

"What?" I ask, confused and slightly annoyed; it was bad, but was it that bad? "There was a fight, but we didn't-hold up," I pause, realizing hat she just said, "are you and Jimmy talking now?"

"When neither of you answer your phones, yeah," she answers as if it's not a big deal, even though they've never really talked much before. 

I run my hand over my face, internally groaning. "His phone's broken and I left mine in the trailer while I was hanging out with him last night."

"His phone's broken?"

"Yeah," I sigh, noting maybe we should get him a replacement today. "We're fine, everything's fine..."

"Okay..." she answers sarcastically. "You don't sound fine."

"I am," I insist, even though I'm sort of thrown off. 

"But..."

"There's uh...we had a conversation I wasn't expecting to," I admit.

I know I can't tell her what about...I'm not really sure if he wants people to know, considering he isn't public with that information. Not that Devin would repeat it, but I don't know..he trusted me, and he hasn't been trusting me, and...

"The marriage thing come up again?" she asks, sounding smug, and my heart beats quicker.

"No," I breathe. "Maybe... Not to me, but I think I overheard and...did Jim say anything to you?"

"About what?" she asks, amused. "Robert proposing?"

"Yeah..."

But she only chuckles and lets me down slowly. "No. But who knows what that weird ass man is up to."

I'm quiet, silently agreeing. I don't really know why I'm sad, but maybe...maybe I did dream it? I don't know anymore, the last twenty four hours have been insane.

"You really do want to get married, huh?" she asks.

I press my lips together, thinking. "You know I don't believe in marriage," I tell her, "but I don't know... Maybe with him it wouldn't be so bad..."

"You two are too dramatic," she sighs. "I think keeping an open mind would be good for you. But can we finish this discussion later so I can get some sleep? Your cat's not happy to be woken up so early, either."

"Is he in your bed?" I laugh, guessing he's snuggled up so he isn't alone.

"Under the damn covers and everything," she complains. "So clingy."

But that reminds me I left my own boy under the covers inside, so I agree to talk to her later, then shoot my mom a quick reply to say I'm fine; Devin must've run something by her when I wasn't answering. With that, I head back in quietly, finding Robert exactly where I left him, hugging the pillow like a child. I set down my phone, glancing at the bed as I hang up the hoodie I stole, and that's when he talks.

"Are you coming back, cause this pillow isn't quite the same," he grumbles, voice raspy and deep, which makes me chuckle as I rub sleep from my eyes. "Come here," he follows up with, reaching out an arm dramatically.

"I'm coming," I chuckle, pulling back the sheets and sliding back into his arms, resting my forehead and hands on his chest. "Ugh, I missed these muscles..." I sigh as he runs his hands up and down my back in blind sleepiness.

Yeah, we've been sharing a bed, but like I said, we haven't been too close. Guess it was his reserves and my over thinking that did it.

"Where'd you go?" he asks sleepily, and I whisper back, warmth flooding my body from his embrace.

"Devin called yesterday, just calling her back. Didn't wanna wake you...you're cute when you're asleep," I whisper.

I can feel his hands raking through my hair, snagging on a knot or two, but smoothing them out. And that reminds me that he'll be chopping his off today, so I detach myself and gaze up at his relaxed face, his eyes shining as he watches me.

"Hello, gorgeous," he murmurs, and then hums when I run my hands up his chest to cup his face, one on each cheek.

"You are the gorgeous one," I tell him sincerely.

He only laughs, smirking, which scratches his stubble against my palms. "Honey, I'm bi, I'm not a woman."

"You're still pretty," I argue. "I told you that before I knew, too."

"I know," he agrees. "But seriously, nothing's different. Okay?"

I smile softly back, but I just wanna speak my mind since we're finally being open. "Why don't you just come out?"

"What, like announce it to everyone?" he asks, and I nod as his hands keep searching my back lightly. "I dunno. Not really a big deal, you know? Rather avoid the press and like I said, I'm not really like attracted to guys much, just the sexual side of things."

"And the stylish diva side of you doesn't help," I add, teasing him. "But why go to all these lengths to hide it?"

"I'm not trying to," he insists. "I just kinda ignore it. You know I like staying out of big issues and shit. Would rather not get into the 'big Hollywood star comes out as bisexual, so what's next for him?' tabloids that'd come. So I'm cool with being straight and just letting you and Jim and my family know."

"Is that all that knows?" I ask delicately, and his jaw cracks, nodding.

"Sarah asked once but I told her no. I was young, yanno. But I guess my fashion sense tipped her off."

I can't help but laugh, running my thumb over his cheek. "Can I just ask why you didn't tell me? Did you think I wasn't gonna like you or something?"

He shakes his head with a lopsided grin, kissing my thumb when it runs over his lip. "I know I loved you when we met, but I didn't know how you felt. So I wasn't about to hit you with that. And then it just didn't come up...with you history and my history-"

"Your history?"

"Yeah," he sighs. "Remember what I told you on the plane after we got back together?"

I swallow, racking my brain. "About jail?" I whisper, concern creeping onto my face, and his lips twitch in sad confirmation which breaks my heart. "Oh, baby, you know that's absolutely nothing to be ashamed about," I try to encourage him, lifting one hand to run it through his messy hair.

"No, but liking it is..." he answers solemnly, looking down away from my eyes. "Explain that one, right? Straight Hollywood hot shot not bothered by being taken advantage of in prison. Not the best thing to say when all the interviewers asked how I knew."

"Bobby..." I sigh. "It's okay."

He only fakes a smile and brings his eyes back up. He's never like this...so sincere. Maybe Tony's character is, but not Robert.

"What happened to you isn't okay," I comfort. "I don't care what you did or who you were, that isn't okay. But that isn't something to be ashamed about either."

He keeps a straight face, eyes on me, and then, "just keep it between us?"

"Of course," I agree. "Thank you for trusting me with this, by the way... I know I haven't been the most trustworthy person lately..."

"We're perfect," he promises with a new smile. "No more secrets, no more problems."

"No more secrets," I agree, then lean up to steal his lips in a kiss, which he grins against, now awake and content that we seem to be resetting on a good foot.

He pulls me against him closer, accepting the kiss and the intimacy that we've been missing, and that's when he makes me laugh.

"Just so you know, I'm planning on having sex with you now, so..." he mumbles against my mouth. "No secrets..."

When I giggle and our teeth bump, he grabs me and rolls me over him, eliciting a squeak in surprise. But he doesn't break our kiss, and he doesn't get kinky or aggressive, he just gets emotional, and clingy, just like Devin called Aero. He's handsy, and he keeps me close as his hands tug my shirt up from my back, and when I duck to let him pull it over my head, I sit up and let him take his own off. 

His bare chest is definitely a sight, and one I've missed. I just saw it the night before as they fit him for those suit pieces, but it was crowded with the people working on him and I couldn't touch him, and seeing him now, I realized how long it's really been since we've had sex that...well, meant anything. That last time...it happened, but it wasn't how we usually are.

And apparently he realizes that, too, cause as he reaches down to work the tie on my pajama pants as I straddle his waist, he smirks again. 

"Not to make this weird," he jokes, "but this is gonna be the first sex you've had with a bisexual man, huh?"

"That you know of," I tease, kicking out of my bottoms and tugging his down.

And he pulls me back to him in response, making me gasp to catch my breath after I fall, and then his lips are on my neck, delicate and caring.

"Hiding something from me?" he muses, and I whine slightly, shaking my head.

"No," I breathe, closing my eyes at his touch. 

"Good girl," he chuckles. "I'm gonna make love to you so fucking good..."

It gives me chills, and every little second of his hands on me, warming my cool skin that slips out from under the covers as they fall. When I start to tremble, he rolls us over with skill, tangling us in the sheets and raising my leg just like he used to, only this time, he takes one of my hands from his shoulders and lowers it to his ass, instructing me to squeeze and give him a tiny bit of what he wants to start. I've done it before, but didn't realize how much that little action can turn him on, but it's shown when he sighs into our kiss and winds up biting my lower lip.

I expect it to be awkward after, but it finally isn't. It's peaceful, and we lay, matching our breathing, until we catch our breath. I wind up snuggling into him again, drifting in and out of sleep as he plays with my hair and silently enjoys my company.

But that's only until my alarm goes off on my phone.

"When did I set that?" I mumble, waking up again.

He kisses my head, then shifts to get out of bed. "I did. Don't have mine so I put it on yours after my shower. Haircut's this afternoon, remember?"

"We need to get you a new phone," I sigh.

"Wanna go out for lunch?" he suggests when he shifts and leaves me in bed, standing and rubbing his one eye as he stumbles over to his closet, butt ass naked...for now.

I can't help but sneak a glance, but he's quick to catch me, looking over with shoulder with a smirk when I'm caught guilty.

"I'll send you more photos," he teases as he turns back to the closet and grabs a shirt to toss on, followed by boxers and jeans, recalling the one he texted while I was recording a while back. "You can stare at those."

"You have a nice ass," I state, as if it's fact...and it is.

"Just wait till you get to play around with it," he answers without missing a beat, and I can feel myself blush hard. But he giggles next, knowing I'd react this way. "Stop making it weird."

"I'm not, you are!" I argue, sitting up to find my own clothes. 

"You're looking at me like you used to," he observes as I dress myself on the edge of the bed.

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"No, like when we were trying to not like each other," he reminds me, like a high school drama. "Like you're embarrassed."

"I'm not embarrassed," I laugh.

"Like I embarrass you," he corrects, gesturing toward me, and I shake my head with a roll of my eyes before standing and grabbing a pair of sunglasses from the side table.

"It's just different," I try to explain. "I know you're not different, but it's just like, 'wow, my boyfriend's bi'. Just..."

"Different," he offers with another smirk.

"Yeah. Look at you, finishing my sentences," I tease.

"I'm just repeating words here," he defends, and I grin and peck his lips with a small kiss as he fishes for a pair of his own glasses and tousles his hair with his hand.

"We're such a cute couple," I sigh.

"I'm rubbing off on you," he points out. "Look at you, all cocky and self aware."

I giggle again, then wrap my arms around his waist when he stand tall, grabbing one of his ridiculous bags to cross over his body for our day out. "It's a good thing," I tell him. "I only say that because it's not like, 'oh, Robert Downey Jr's bi', it's just you. My boyfriend you. Nothing else."

He smiles, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "It's really not a big deal."

"It's not," I agree. "But it's just out there now, so..."

Eventually he gives me a grumpy kiss and then we head out to the city to get a bite to eat and stop by the Apple store to get him a new phone. Thankfully, most of his stuff is saved to the cloud so he just has to download it. The contacts and calendar and whatever might not have been completely up to date should be on his work phone, so I'll help him look at it later. The grandpa is not as tech savvy as Tony may be, but he tries... With a little instruction I'll show him how to do it.

I'd have them show him at the store, but Jimmy has the work phone, and honestly, we don't want his personal calendar getting out to the public, so it's probably safer this way. That, and the way the woman helping him has invaded his personal space is slightly irritating. Fans, okay. Women trying to seduce him...not okay.

But I brush it off, until the same thing happens when we're at lunch before his haircut. He's stopped outside, detaching his hand from mine on his way back to the car as he goes to take a few photos with a couple teenagers that fan girl over his presence. I'm fine with it, I want him to interact with the fans. But the girls have absolutely no interest in me, which is also fine, but the last one he takes a photo with has her hand on his chest, just like I do, and doesn't let go after their photo. 

Instead, she raises her hand and tugs at the collar of his jacket, making him smirk as he awkwardly shifts.

"This must've been expensive, huh?" she asks, realizing it's one of his Gucci leather jackets, and I roll my eyes.

"I don't remember," he lies behind his dark frames, the usual Downey smirk on his face to mask how out of place he feels; I can sense it.

"Can I try it on?" she begs, and that's when I sigh, realizing this was bound to happen eventually, but I'm still not ready for it. 

"I have to go, my car's waiting," he points out, pointing to the car a few feet behind them.

"Are you sure?" she pouts, her friends toying with their hair like dolls waiting for his answer.

"Pretty sure," he states, face straightening out.

"What, don't like younger girls, Mr Downey?" she asks, trying to sound seductive I guess, and traces the collar with his fingertips, and that's when he shrugs her off, starting to get ticked off.

I'm not sure if it's because he's disgusted by them, or if it's because of the whole coming out as bi to me thing, or if it's because he knows I'm younger, and he in fact does like me. Either way, he straightens his shoulders out and lifts his chin, defiant.

"I'm in a very happy and committed relationship right now," he answers coolly. "With this stunning woman who I'm one hundred percent in love with," he adds, holding out a hand which I accept and smirk, myself, before he gives me a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, beautiful," he greets, "ready to go?"

"Of course," I agree, leaning into him and stealing a real kiss before flattening out the edge of his collar that the fan was toying with.

"Enjoy the photos, girls," he calls, wrapping his arm around my waist as he walks me to the edge of the sidewalk and past the other waiting fans, ready to go home. 

I feel bad, ignoring the other part of the group, but I can tell his temper's flaring under all of that, so I sink down into the car first so he can join me in the backseat. He sighs when we start on our way to his hair stylist, and leans his head back, and that's when I chuckle.

He peeks an eye open at me with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"I'd say you like younger girls," I toss back, making fun of the situation, and that's when he breaks his straight face with a smile, leaning over in the backseat to lay his head on my shoulder with another heavy sigh.

"Sorry..." 

"I love you," I laugh, enjoying how much of a kid he's being.

Hey, at least he's back to being the cute, protective boyfriend. I'll take that over the distance any day, even with encounters from inappropriate fans.


	97. Chapter 97

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A month from today I'll get to meet my favorite person in this fandom for the first time and I am so freaking excited, you guys have no idea.

It's weird now that his hair's short and freshly dyed. I'm so used to the fluffy beard and the long locks I can run my hands through, but now he's back to the Tony look. The couple of days after the argument he continued to let his stubble grow into Tony's beard, thinner than the previous movies but there.

But it fits his mood well. Things have been better. A lot better. The night after that day we spent out together resulted in another steamy encounter, this time in the shower, and I realized then how much he enjoys my rough touch. He likes being the dominant, pinning me against the wall under the water, making me lose my breath with his heavy breath and kisses that nip at my skin. The groans I let slip fuel him, but not as much as my nails in his shoulders or on his ass, groping him and holding him close. It isn't to rough, it isn't anything like what happened to either of us before...it's just both of us letting out the sexual tension that gathered those few weeks while we weren't too intimate.

It's like a light is switched on, though, because in the bedroom we're hot and heavy, but in public, we're cute and cuddly, something completely new. While he's walking around set, he asks me to join him and keeps me under his arms. He's talking to me, ignoring the rest of the space as he jokes under his breath about something I said last week or telling me an idea that just popped into his head. He's making me laugh and I like it. I like the shine to his eyes, the cute laugh lines at his cheeks. The way his eyebrows lift when he grins so wide he shows off his teeth. We were close before, yeah, but now we're inseparable...so far at least.

He's fitted for some normal clothes the following day and I watch, until the afternoon when we part and I'm headed to a small place in town where I'm meeting his stylist to try on some stuff for the release party next week. Tomorrow's the Grammy's, which we're watching with a small party at Robert's house, and two days later is Valentine's Day, followed later that week by the release before that weekend. Robert still hasn't told me what he's got up his sleeve for Valentine's Day, but he did let me know that we'll be taking a short vacation, and to pack warm.

But there's a different surprise when I get back to set that afternoon; my mother, waiting with Jimmy, who apparently hasn't told Robert about her arrival yet.

"Mom..." I start awkwardly, locking his car that I've borrowed for the day with the keys.

It beeps in the background as I wander up.

"Guards called me to let her in," Jim tells me. "Bob's on five right now with Kev and Anthony, want me to grab him?"

"No," I sigh, shaking my head. "Thank you. Just let him know I'm back whenever he's done."

"Will do..should be wrapping up soon. Hey, Galaxy tickets for next month in LA, field side, wanna go?" he tosses in, knowing I'm the bigger sports fan."

"Duh. Since when are you into soccer?" I tease, and my mom finally chimes in. 

"Since when are you?" she asks, and that's when Jimmy smirks and shoves his hands in his vest pockets before heading back toward one of the buildings.

So I turn to my mother, who looks concerned, and then I'm randomly engulfed in a hug.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she sighs when she releases me.

"I'm fine?" I offer, confused as all hell. "Why are you here? Did something happen?"

"Devin told me you two hard a bad fight and she was worried about you..."

"Right..." I exhale, then nod to the trailer we're staying in to have her follow. "Nothing happened, mom. Remind me to tell her off though."

"She's just being a good friend," she retorts, climbing up the stairs behind me. 

"Make yourself at home..." I mumble, going to make the bed that was never made so the place looks sort of presentable. "So she had you fly all the way here cause we had a fight?"

"She told me you want to have kids?!" she tries for desperately, which makes me groan in frustration; of course Devin would do that. "Are you fighting over that? Are you...Rach, are you pregnant?"

"No!" I cut her off. "I was just thinking about it, we were just talking. He doesn't even know. Nothing's happening!" Then another sigh as I join her at the table in the kitchen. "Mom, I appreciate it, but you didn't need to come down here, okay? We're fine, I swear."

"Well I'm here now," she huffs. "Your fault for not calling me back."

"I've been busy!" I insist. "I was just out all day at a dress fitting for the party, and I'm exhausted. Haven't even looked at my phone."

But that's cut short when there's a rustle at the door and I excuse myself, realizing Robert must have ended his day when Jimmy went to fetch him.

"Bobby?" I question as he enters the trailer, setting his phone down and headed straight for the bathroom with a grin on his face; he was probably chatting with the guys about something inappropriate, per usual.

I follow him in and see him wetting a towel, dabbing at his face to remove a red streak around his eye. I swear...I can never tell anymore.

"Please tell me that's just makeup," I whine from the doorway before taking a step in and grabbing the towel from his hand to do the job for him.

"I'm fine," he teases. "Just a fun battle shoot with the suit. ...but you should see the other guy."

I smirk, wiping it from his face, then turning to wring it out in the sink. "What other guy?"

"You know, the...other guy," he tries. "The one they'll CGI in next to me for the magazine cover."

I shake my head as I steady my racing heart. "This stuff always freaks me out, you know..."

"Sorry, sweetheart, part of the job!"

I exhale in amusement next, with a small roll of the eyes. "I know, I know...let's just get the rest off, and then-"

Before I can turn back to him, his arms encircle my waist and his breath is warm on my ear, his body pressing mine against the small counter in the little bathroom area. He doesn't hide his good mood, and I suppress a moan when he grinds himself against my backside, his hands fiddling with the button on my jeans.

"Why don't we get these clothes off too, and we can take a shower and-"

"Robert," I interrupt with a warning tone."

"-make sure we're extra clean for-"

"Rachel?"

His face is priceless as he freezes and hears my mother's voice approaching from the kitchenette, and I can't help but laugh, dropping the towel and reaching down to button my jeans back up as he lets go and takes a step back, relieving my waist of his hands by setting them on my shoulders instead.

"What do you think of Italian for dinner, or-oh! Robert, you're back!" she greets, and it's obvious she knows what was happening because she gives me a smug grin.

"Mrs Thomas..." Robert greets awkwardly, excusing himself from me to take her hand and shake it in a greeting. "Sorry, Rachel didn't mention you were coming, so-"

"It was a last minute thing," she smiles.

"Last minute meaning Devin called her after the other day, and uh, here we are," I fill in so he knows I had no clue either.

"Right," he sighs, and he looks guilty again. "Look, Mrs Thomas-"

"Lynn," she corrects.

He smiles awkwardly. "Lynn...I know it was a rough day or two but I swear I never meant to hurt your daughter and I made sure to respectfully talk with her so we could work through things, so I promise everything's okay and you don't have to worry, or-"

She cocks and eyebrow, laughing at his rant, which only makes me smile and hug his arm from his side.

"Babe, it's fine," I tease. "I filled her in," I tell him, then quickly add, "on the important parts."

He relaxes a little when I follow up with that, apparently worried that I might've discussed our sex life with her. Thankfully, my mom and I have never been like that, so that wasn't even a question.

"Hey, mom, give us a minute to change and then we'll head out and get something to eat?" I offer, then turn to Robert. "If you have the time?"

"Yeah, we're done for the night," he agrees. "Let me just uh...get out of these sweats and I'll drive?"

"You want to invite Jimmy?" I ask.

I visibly see Robert think it over before he finally shakes his head. "No, no, I mean...maybe just not this time? Since you're here, Lynn, I was hoping I'd get a chance to talk with you a little more..."

My mom nods slowly, then grabs her jacket. "I'll meet you outside?"

"Yeah, uh...silver Audi up by the gate," he answers, regarding the car I just brought back before heading into the bedroom.

I give her a smile, thanking her for two minutes alone and follow him in, standing in the doorway as he goes for the drawers of t shirts and casual pants.

"So..." I muse after he changes his shirt. "You suddenly want to talk to my mom? Are you nuts?"

"Yeah, I like your mom." He rolls his eyes, tugging on a new pair of baggy pants, the kind he always wears off set. "Just thought it'd be nice to have a chance to get to know her a little better."

"You've been with her dozens of times..."

"Things are different," he shrugs, mentioning how close we've gotten...closer than before.

I can't help but stare at the dip in his abs as he ties the pants onto his hips loosely, my mind slowly headed back to the encounter in the bathroom a few minutes before. He smirks when he notices, tugging down his shirt over the hem and then he turns back to grab a hat from the closet, giving me prime viewing of his backside for a few seconds.

"You know, sometimes I wonder if you secretly have one of those social media accounts that just posts photos of my ass the way you look at it," he teases, adding a beanie to top it off.

"Mmmm," I hum, amused since I know he's secretly stalked some of them. "Why look at photos when I have the real thing?" I ask seductively, making him groan as he approaches.

"Rach, get changed before I call off dinner and eat in on this bed," he teases.

I feel my eyes flare as he tosses out the suggestion, but I know we can't do that to my mother, so I settle for a kiss instead, biting his lower lip in payback.

"Fine, but you owe me dessert later.."

My hand grazes his front when I weave myself around him to find a decent shirt to put on instead of my tank top. He sighs loudly, shifting as he readjusts himself, then grabs for his keys near the kitchenette.

When I follow him out, I let my hand wander to his ass, squeezing gently as I skip past him and out of his reach. I turn to see his playful glare when I make it to the car first, hopping over the side and taking the back so my mom can have the front seat. She eyes him awkwardly as he follows with his head down and slips into the driver's seat, and then we're on our way to a small restaurant in town, somewhere decent but not too fancy. She wanted Italian and he made it happen.

He's great, as usual. Comfortable. He lets me spend dinner telling her about the release party. I invite her, telling her we'll be out of town for Valentine's Day but we'll be headed back into Nashville on Thursday night, the day before release, if she wants to meet us. I also ask her to stay tomorrow, for the party to watch the awards, and we let her stay at the house despite us still using the trailer on set; there's not many people here, so if my mom wants to use the house, it'll give us some privacy, because hell...we're still a little too in love at the moment and need it.

"So what about you, mom?" I ask. 

"What about me?" she asks, sipping at her drink. 

I raise an eyebrow, oblivious to the people watching us right now - Robert's pretty popular here, but again, his arm is draped over the back of my chair and he's on the edge of his seat to be close to me, so it must look funny.

"How's the house?" I offer. "The dog? You know all about us, but..."

"I'd tell you if you ever called me," she muses, and I sigh, not wanting to argue. "I know, you're busy," she followed up with. "And I'm proud of you for that. But these lights and fame and fortune...it's still all crazy, you know...no offense, Robert," she adds, nodding his direction.

"None taken," he shrugs.

"I know, but I'm happy," I assure her, glancing at Robert who smiles warmly back, his eyes solely on me with that softness I adore. "I'm really fucking happy..."

Taking the hint, she drops the accusations and goes back to my questions. "The dog's fine, boarded her for the weekend. The house is...well, it needs work, but don't have the money right now. New carpets, maybe fix a leak in the roof...nothing major."

"How much?" I ask, turning my attention back to her, and she shrugs. 

"I'll figure it out."

"No," I argue. "Mom, tell me how much you need, we'll take care of it."

Robert nods at my side, so she caves, nodding and sitting back in her chair. "Okay, okay...I'll get some estimates, if you're gonna nag me about it."

"Like hell I am," I agree. "You don't have to worry about money right now, mom...okay, we're in a good place. My music's bringing in enough for all of us, and Bobby's-"

"Bobby's glad to share the wealth," Robert finishes for me with a grin. "No problem at all, especially for family."

I blush, blinking down at the glass I'm toying with in my hand. Funny, how he's been calling me family. First before I left for New York, and now to my mother... And his mom referred to me as that a few times...

But shortly after that I excuse myself to the bathroom, knowing we have a short drive back to the house to drop her off and then back to set. I leave them at the table while Robert pays the bill; he insists neither of us touch it and I try to argue but he isn't having it.

When I return, he's laughing, happily discussing something with my mom, who lays her hand over his on the table. I'm sure the tabloids will post shit about this, but I know it's just a loving gesture. About what, I have no idea, but he quickly dismisses it when he notices I'm returning and stands, grabbing his jacket from his chair and handing me my bag.

"Everything okay?" I ask, and he nods happily.

"Sending a crew to your mom's after the holiday," he announces. "Gonna fix everything up, inspect the place and take care of anything else they find."

I sigh with a grin, taking his hand and squeezing it in content. "You're ridiculous," I laugh.

"He's a keeper," my mom corrects, then leads us outside, learning to ignore the cameras in our face when we exit and get the valet to bring the car around again.

The car ride is a calm silence as I rest my eyes, and he lets me stay in the car as he shows my mom the ropes of the house. He promises to send a car in the morning if she wants to join us again on set for the first half of the day. Otherwise, we'll be back at the house that afternoon to prep for his company.

I'm relaxed, especially when we return to set and he parks. It's a lot like the first night I came back here, the sky clear and the lights in the lot dim. And he must note how I love looking at the stars, because he suggests we hang out in the car with the roof down for a while, since it isn't supposed to rain tonight. He lays down first, then offers me a hand to balance me as I join him in the small space, using his chest as a pillow.

I feel Robert drape a blanket from the back floor over me, the two of us trying to fit on the back seat. There's other places to sit, yeah, but it's quiet, for the first time in a while, and there's not a cloud in the dark, Atlanta sky. I breathe, content as I stare up at the night for quite a while. There's not a soul in the lot, most of the crew headed home to their families and their lives while there's no night filming.

His chest rising and falling settles me as I run my thumbs across his one hand, which has grabbed my own. I hold it tightly to my chest with both of mine, enjoying the warmth of his arms around me. He's got a soft shirt on, which is giving extra warmth for where the blanket doesn't cover. Honestly...I have no idea what time it is, but it's late, and all I know is I'm sleepy but I just want to lay awake like this forever.

After a few moments, his free hand lazily travels to my hair, stroking slow, soft brushes through it in a calming manner.

"See, dinner wasn't so bad, was it?" he asks, his deep voice low in my ear.

I tilt my head to the side, away from the stars and further toward his chest to snuggle closer. "No," I admit. "Aside from you sucking up to my mom," I tease.

"I'm just trying to get on her good side!" he gasps dramatically, which makes me chuckle.

"She loves you," I promise in a whisper. "Just like I do."

He doesn't respond, a silent confirmation. It's quiet again as I close my eyes, listening to his heart. The stars are pretty, but I just want to focus on his touch, on his smell...on how perfect everything was tonight. On how much better we've been for each other since the fight.

I suddenly decide to shift, pushing myself onto my side so I can look up at his handsome face...and it allows my to place my ear just over his heart. He grins when he lazily watches me meet his eyes, then re adjusts the blanket over us.

"Hey, pretty girl," he says, almost too quietly, that familiar hazy look of care back in his dark eyes.

It almost hurts to see how content he is. To know in this moment, everything is perfect. Everything is still and quiet and there's just us. No cameras, no fame, no work... I bite my lip, smiling back up at him, then stupidly speak my mind without thinking first.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Robert Downey," I whisper, letting my hand trace the hair line of his goatee.

He blinks slowly, his smile never faltering. "Told ya, great minds think alike."

I let my eyes scan his for a second, returning the love he has in his, then push myself up onto my elbow, leaving my hand on his cheek. "Kiss me?"

"Mmmm, like you need to ask," he murmurs, then meets me half way, his lips pressing lightly against mine.

I can't tell how much time goes by, but it doesn't matter. All I can focus on is the slow rhythm of the movements his mouth is making against mine. The way has hands slowly trail down to my waist, sending shivers down my spine. The way his tongue carefully searches each tiny spot in my mouth, then finds mine and massages it lightly. The way his beard and mustache tickle my sensitive skin, then caress it with a soft follow up. His taste, his breathing, his smell. The feeling of his toned muscles underneath me. It's a calm, slow kiss, that goes on and on and I never want it to stop.

Finally, I shift myself and swing my leg over his body, lying fully on top of him instead of to his side. He slides over easily, his hands running up and down my back as he tilts his head to get better access to my mouth. My hands wander into his hair, running through the short, soft strands that he still has spiked from earlier. He bites my lower lip when I tug at it, and I whine slightly, my hips pressing against his a little too hard.

Gasping for breath, he breaks off the slow, intimate make out session while his hands find my ass through my jeans. "We don't have to do anything. I'm fine with this. Just...kissing, touching...laying with you."

I peck his lips again, my eyes still heavy and fluttering closed again. "Make love to me, Robert," I beg softly.

He sucks in a breath, nodding slightly before reaching for his wallet in the seat in front of him and fishing out a condom to lessen the mess. I kiss him again when he comes back, pulling the blanket further over us in case any of the crew wanders out at this hour, then let my hands busy themselves elsewhere; the tie on his pants to be exact.

When I loosen it, I break our slow kiss to unbutton my jeans and tug them down, Robert sliding his own out of the way and tearing open the condom with his teeth. He smooths it over, then waits for me to maneuver my underwear out of the way, his hands running up and down my arms as I slowly lower myself onto his length. I gasp, adjusting to him, then take his face in my hands and reattach my lips, searching out his tongue as I slowly start to move.

I keep our pace slow, just like how we made out, and his hips meet my movements, helping to support me in the awkward space of the backseat. His thrusts are easy, not rough like some of our other times, and I can tell how relaxed we both already are.

When he finally breaks for air again, I let my hands still cup his face until his eyes flutter open, capturing mine as he watches me while we move. Each time my body slowly rocks up his, his breathing gets shallower and shallower, and I can feel the heat between us rising, with the blanket and the top clothing still on.

"Ah," I moan quietly when he circles his hips a little to toss in something new.

"Keep quiet, sweetheart," he laughs, reminding me we're basically in public.

"Sorry," I whisper, leaving my head down to nibble on his neck.

"I love you so much, babe," he whispers, holding me against him. "I hope you know that."

"I love you too," I whisper back, breathing in his ear as he picks up the pace just a little bit.

"Put your weight on your knees," he suggests, shifting a couple inches over in between thrusts. "That's it..."

When I do as instructed, he holds onto my ass, then relieves me of my job and thrusts into me evenly while holding me in place. I breathe heavily into his ear as he quickens his movements just slightly. My stomach starts to tighten and even though nothing is said, I can tell we're both about to come. I lift my head again, eager to watch him as he closes his eyes, furrows his brow, and leans his head back, lips barely parted as he groans softly and lets go, tightening his hold on me for a few seconds. The closeness and his adorable facial expression are enough to send me over and after a moment, I'm catching my breath on his chest, hands sliding up his clothed torso and to his neck.

After a second, he taps my ass gently. "Lift up for a sec?"

Carefully I give him space to pull out and tie the condom, tossing it in a tissue on the floor for the time being. While he does so, I pull my jeans back up, securing the button and he mirrors me, tying his own.

"Come here," he whispers next, his arms back around me and pulling me down against him.

I smile, realizing his heart is beating much faster now. He grabs for one hand, massaging it with his own as he rests them on his chest.

"I don't deserve you..." I manage out in the stillness.

"Stop," he protests, but I ignore it.

"Just stating the truth... Like my mom said, this is just...crazy. Me, you...you."

"Rach," he groans teasingly. "We talked about this. Several times, actually."

"I know," I agree. "But I don't think you get it, Robert. I probably owe you my life at this point."

"What do you mean?"

"You've saved me so many times...from financial issues, the addictions, Charlie...Bobby, I probably wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for you."

He hugs me tighter, holding me securely. "Rachel, you don't know how lucky I am to have you."

"You're crazy," I mutter and he laughs.

"We already knew that," he teases. "I mean it, though. Yeah, at first I didn't even want to do that wedding, but you just...you didn't treat me like the rest do. It actually kinda annoyed the hell out of me, if I'm honest."

"What, Mr Downey not happy about getting the cold shoulder?"

"A little, yeah," he laughs. "You see how people are. I was almost shocked to have you turn me away like that. Guess I really have gotten a big head..."

"I just didn't know how to talk to you," I admit, embarrassed. "Sometimes I still don't."

"Oh, bullshit," he calls with humor. "Rachel, you've seen me naked. We've had sex. You live with me. I think we're well past that by now."

"You would think..." I mumble, closing my eyes to cuddle to him further.

"You've seen me as a a real person from day one, even if you were a fan."

"Hey, correction! Still am."

He chuckles, his chest moving as he continues playing with my hand. "And my number one, at that."

I sigh, hesitating for a moment. Though I appreciate that, is that all I am?

"Is that what you see me as?" I ask softly.

"What are you going on about now?" he sighs.

"I mean...just a girl who was a fan. Is that what you tell people? Your family?"

He lifts my hands and kisses my knuckles, groaning against my skin. "You are absolutely ridiculous, you know..."

"Thanks..." I mumble.

"Rachel, we literally just had sex, almost a year into our official relationship, and you're asking me if I just see you as a groupie? Babe, I've told you this before...you were incredibly talented, and you just intrigued me. I don't know why...maybe it was your voice, maybe it was how you kept dismissing me, but I just wanted to know more." He sighs. "And I couldn't keep my eyes off of you, either. You're stunning, inside and out. So, that's what I tell them. I actually never viewed you as a fan after we met."

I smile, kissing his chest through his shirt since I don't have any idea how to respond.

"Do you believe me when I say I love you?" he asks softly.

I take a deep breath. "Yes....I'm just not used to someone caring like this. Especially after all the dumb shit I've done..."

"Get used to it," he tells me, kissing my head. "I'm not going anywhere. I don't care what we've argued over or how many mistakes we've made-"

"Devin said we're too dramatic," I huff, and I can feel him smirk, I swear.

"If we had a perfect relationship, I'd be bored," he admits. "Yeah, we can tone it down with the arguments a little, but you knew what I was like long before you agreed to date me. Comes as part of the package."

"That's okay," I promise. "I like you even when you're over the top."

"I think we'll be okay from now on..." he whispers, calm and sleepy.

Honestly, I know I'm falling asleep as well, and I don't really care. We'll be rudely awakened in the morning, unless he wants to move us inside later, but for now, I let myself succumb to his steady breathing and his fingers playing with my hand. ...It's only now I realize they're circling my ring finger. Coincidence? I couldn't tell you.


	98. Chapter 98

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Smut, fluff, all of the random stuff! And a cliff hanger. Hehe...who knows what I'm up to? You will never guess!

"Three, two..." I hear quietly, and I think I'm dreaming. 

And then a loud ass air horn goes off and I jolt awake, rolling onto the floor. When the horn stops I rub my eyes and look around, blinking in the bright sunlight.

"Jesus fuck," I hear, and it's Robert's voice, and then it starts to make sense. 

My heart's beating like crazy, the surprise and quite rude awakening making it race. There's laughter, from two guys, and I guess one's at least Jimmy. The other I recognize but can't put a name to it. Robert's sitting up, the blanket from last night falling off of him, and then I blink, realizing I'm on the floor of the car. We must've fallen asleep outside, and the others are having their fun with it.

"Rise and shine," Jimmy teases, ruffling Robert's hair as he yawns, making him glare back at his friend.

"Where the fuck did you get an air horn?!" he snaps, and I run my hand over my face as I catch my breath.

"The Jeep at the house from that time you ambushed Gwyn," Jim laughs, and that makes Robert smirk with a childish giggle as he remembers whatever prank he had pulled on her

"Oh yeah..." he grins.

"Putting this on your Insta," his friend follows up with, taking the phone from the other person...must be one of the crew I've been watching set up, because I don't know his name.

"Putting what on Instagram?" I mumble.

"Your little wake up call," Jimmy answers, typing away at the phone. "You two were a little too cuddly and it was making the rest of us sick."

"You didn't find the condom, did you?" Robert asks next, pulling himself up and hopping over the side of the car. 

He stretches, ignoring Jimmy's disgusted look in response, and then he's quick to offer me a hand, pulling my grumpy ass up and over the side.

"Go get a shower and meet me in a half hour," Jimmy asks, nodding for the kid who took the video to come with him for something to eat. 

Robert shoots him a lopsided grin, and then when they disappear, he takes a hold of me, holding me by the waist as I rub sleep from my eyes.

"Party tonight, work now," he tells me with a pout. "Got stuff to do or you wanna come hang out?"

"I should probably call Dev," I sigh. "And D's gotta go over stuff for the party with me, since we're leaving tomorrow, right?"

"Yup!" he celebrates with a pop of the p. 

"Are you ever gonna tell me where we're going?" I sigh, and he shakes his head. 

"Just pack layers."

"Are we going skiing?" I guess. "I've never been. I've snowboarded though. Aspen? Or back to New York?"

"Eh," he winces dramatically, "a little further than that."

"Further?"

"You'll see. I'll tell you when we get on the plane."

I reluctantly agree, and we part for the morning, him wrapping up whatever they were working on photo wise and costume wise, and I call Devin and get the details for the end of the week, waiting until after normal hours in California time. It's going to be busy, but she's got contact with the stylist to get the dress delivered to Nashville for me, and we're flying back in on Thursday to get a good night's sleep before the big day. It's weird, me being the center of attention this time. Robert's my date. He's matching my outfit. And it isn't as crazy as a red carpet or anything, no, but it's still...new and exciting.

Just like the following few days.

Let's start with how after the phone call with D, I check my Twitter, only to see those photos of the girls with Robert from the other day are going around. They're cute, but...apparently the one girl blasted him for not taking her offer, though she didn't quite write it that way, just called him rude or something, so the fandom's being all protective of his ass again. I want to jump in ore than anything, but I don't want to get involved and mess up his silent image. So I ignore it, for now.

And then the night of the Grammy's. My mom's cooking up a storm in his kitchen when we get back to the house. She's insisting she helps out, even though he's calling in catering to be delivered by his team in the next couple of hours. He's got his work buds coming in, and Jimmy has a few friends, and it isn't anything big, but he's bought me wine and brought up the big theater projector to play the show, and it reminds me of the parties I dreamed of as a high school kid.

Sometime before the show when I'm getting dressed in something that isn't the clothing I wore last night (my mother had a field day scolding me for that, let me tell you..), the crazy thoughts began. Robert called for me while hopping into his room from the stairs, holding a box in his hands. I peeked from the bathroom, observing as I toss my hair up.

"By the way," he states, setting it on the bed and heading to his closet to grab one of his leather jackets and a new pair of glasses. "This came for you right after you left, thought you might've wanted it for the trip so I brought it along. Ordering from Gwyn, are we?"

I blush, remembering the care package she said she was sending me. "All her," I assure him. "You know I'm too low maintenance for these beauty routines and whatever."

"Uh huh," he states plainly, then heads back toward the box, prying it open with his keys to break the tape. "I'm opening it."

"Go ahead," I laugh, going back into the bathroom to turn out the light. "You'll probably use it more than I will anyway..."

"Instant facial, yes," he grins, pulling stuff out and placing it on the bed as I join him. "Cleanser, lotion..."

"You are such a girl," I state, amused as I stand next to him with crossed arms.

"O-ho..." he huffs next with a laugh, digging into the box and holding up an interesting package. "Lover's Oil, huh?"

I can feel myself instantly redden and snatch it from him, looking at the box. "It's just...it's just oils. Like aromatherapy," I defend. "Stop being a child."

"You snatched it up!" he giggles. "Embarrassed?"

"No!"

"Not even by this?" he asks next, and from the box he withdraws another longer box, and reads the label as he holds it up. "The Millionaire," he smirks, "now with four different speed settings and two pulsation modes."

I drop the box I'm holding and stare wide eyed at the item in his hands, scared as hell. I know she said she was sending a care package, but I forgot they sold this kind of stuff, and after how I told her we hadn't had sex in a while...

"Miss Thomas, are you ordering sex toys behind my back?" he muses, turning toward me with a surprised look plastered across his giddy face. 

"I...I didn't know she..." I stammer, avoiding his eyes. "I didn't..."

"Look at you, all flustered," he teases, and that's when I decide to quickly snatch the box from his hands, along with the other stuff, and package it back into the box it all came in.

"I asked her for advice, not-"

But he's still stuck on his last comment. "Imagine how flustered you'll be when we actually use it."

"Use...it...?" I blink, breath catching at the thought of...well...no, Rachel, stop. "Oh, no, I-"

"Perfect for when you're on tour," he comments, and I take a breath, horrified by this situation.

"I don't-" I start, but he's still grinning, cracking his jaw as he watches me try to hide my blush. 

"Don't what? Get off when I'm not around? Come on, you'll be gone for three months, you can't seriously tell me-"

"I..." I swallow nervously, then decide to deflect to avoid answering. "Are you saying you-"

"What?" he asks, and I finally find my confidence once it's shifted back on him.

"You know!"

And God does his high pitched giggle make me feel silly, but he knows I won't say it. "Sometimes."

"That week we were fighting?"

"Nope," he shrugs. "But while you were recording..."

"Bobby!" I groan, shoving him playfully and carrying the box to the closet to hide...just in case.

"Calm down, it's not like it's every day," he informs me. "Just...when I miss you."

"Yeah?" I sigh, reemerging from the closet and letting my guard down. I wrap my arms around his neck and bite my lip, finally meeting his yes again. "And what do you think about, Mr Downey?" I ask quietly, kind of curious.

"You," he answers with a whisper.

"Mmm, really?" I ask with a glance at his lips, and they twitch. 

"You doing...certain things in a certain red and gold outfit that I haven't seen in a while..."

I can't help but blush harder, so I lean forward to place a soft kiss on his lips instead. But I wind up groaning, realizing the door bell is ringing and my mother is yelling from the kitchen, so it looks like his guests are already arriving. Guess that'll have to wait for later.

The viewing party goes over well, even though I'm a nervous wreck until the middle somewhere when they cut to the video before the commercial break. Wine has definitely helped...I've downed about three glasses already, nursing my fourth. It's been like two hours, but still...I'm a little tipsy. Robert's already approved, telling me to celebrate and he'll keep an eye on me if I want to have fun. My mom's working her second, and lord knows which of his friends are drinking. 

I honestly wish I could be there, but it'll have to do to watch it like this. Jimmy snaps a photo of me sitting on the couch arm with Robert on the end cushion, me leaning into him and smiling for the camera like an idiot. But at least I'm comfortable. Remember when I used to be nervous to take photos with him? Yeah, we're way past that now. Now, I don't care what they post. I'm happy, we're happy...I just want to show him off.

"Hey," I whisper, wrapping my arm around his shoulders and stealing him from his conversation with his buddy at his side right after Jimmy snaps the photo.

He steadies my wine glass as I swish it around and lose balance, setting it down on the coffee table ahead of him instead. Then he leans back, and my hands are immediately on his face, pulling him in for a tipsy kiss, grinning against his mouth.

"You taste like wine," he observes. "Want a water to go with that?"

"I'm having fun," I pout, releasing him to press my nose into his neck and take a deep breath of his scent. "I love you."

"I love you," he chuckles, but then quickly after that he's tapping my knee and motioning toward the TV as it switches to their announcement. "Hey, you're up."

Thank God for alcohol, because it's downing my nerves. I'm dying to know how the tour announcement goes, and I've seen the video, yeah, a couple times before I left for New York, but this...is going to now be shown to the millions of people watching the Grammy's...how the hell do I stomach that?!

He's got my phone on silent after this morning's mishap with those photos, though, so I have no idea how the internet's responding, but Jimmy claims it's good. He also fails to tell me he took a video of us watching it on TV before he posts it, so I'll have to watch it later on.

Robert must think it's good, though, because he's quick to launch a celebration with music turned up over the TV to mask the rest of the show since my part has come and gone. I'm on my way to refill again in the kitchen, dancing with Jim with a loud laugh. I bump into the counter when I grab the wine bottle, and that's when he and Robert trade places, because I doubt Jim's the one to hold onto my waist as I pour, standing behind me.

"You looked hot, by the way," he purrs into my ear, and his lips graze the skin there, making my drunken self shiver. "In the video. I never saw the whole thing."

"Was jus a leather jacket," I slur back, setting down the glass as he pushes me into the counter. "Just like you're wearing now."

"I recognize that jacket," he tells me, and I smirk. "You know I still have yours in New York?"

"No trade backs," I tease, pushing my hips back against him and I can hear him groan as his hands grip my hips tighter than before.

Then I chug the glass of wine, downing it smoothly and then leaning my head back against his shoulder after placing it back down on the counter, and that's when he captures my lips in a passionate kiss. It's evident he's in the mood, but we're in the middle of a party, so...

"Easy there," I whisper, pulling away, and he nips at my neck instead, his Stark beard scratching against my soft skin.

"Bedroom," he breathes. "Five minutes."

"But the party-" I protest, but he hushes me with another kiss.

"Go," he orders, tapping my side before letting off of me, and I can't help but bite my lip as he calls after me. "Jimmy'll hold down the fort for a little bit."

I drunkenly stumble to the stairs, finding my way up and to the bedroom. I'm sure I'm noticed, but I can't tell right now. I'm trying to be sneaky and quick, but that last glass is already going to my head and I have to pee, so I head to the bathroom and strip after relieving myself, prepping for what I know he wants.

After a moment, I hear foot steps and the door close from outside, so I fluff my hair in the mirror. "Had to pee, give me a sec," I call through the door, an I hear him hum an affirmative.

Quickly turning out the light, I head back to the main area of the master bedroom. The lights are out and the moonlight is the only thing letting me see him. He's shrugged out of his jacket and come back from the closet, where he must be hanging it up, and then he's quick to pull me into a kiss, making me melt at his touch, per usual.

But shortly after that, he spins me around, his arm still wrapped around me, and my hands cling to his forearm for balance. I can feel him press into my backside, and his lips are at my neck, trailing warm kisses down my chilled skin, and that's when he finally speaks.

"Jim's got the music up," he whispers, and I note I can hear it from up here. "Give us a little privacy."

"They'll know we're missing," I gasp when his other hand trails down my stomach and he pulls me back against his body, securing me on my toes.

"We have a little time," he promises. "Told him I just need a moment with my superstar girlfriend..."

I gulp when his fingers trace around my lower half, making me squeak out a whine before they lightly touch where I want him. 

"Plus," he adds, "looks like you want me just as much."

"Always want you," I gasp out as his fingers move. "You know that."

"Does this feel good?" he teases, a kiss to my shoulder, and I groan, nails digging into his arm. 

"Yes..." 

"How about this?" he asks next, but removes his hand and that's when I exhale, frustrated, and let out a pleading whimper.

But the missing warmth is soon replaced by something cool, and something very different. Normally, I'd panic, but the alcohol in me is making me relax, and he knows that.

"Is that-" I whisper in a breathless hush, and he chuckles.

"You tell me," he plays it off, but next thing I know, there's a vibration where he's pressed it to me, and I catch my breath, faltering in his arms. "Sensitive, are we?"

"I..." I manage, but nothing else comes as he holds the toy to me.

I'm silently cursing Gwyn right now. Silently cursing him, too, because he's finding this humorous. I was definitely not prepared for this and the little sneaky shit would obviously want to be kinky tonight, of all nights, wouldn't he?

But he's quickly distracting me by turning it up to the second of those four speeds and I groan again, clenching onto his arms as I tremble, already feeling the rush of the tingling to my lower body. He knows he's doing well, and he's enjoying this far too much.

"You've never used one of these things, have you?" he asks, entertained, and I shakes my head, unable to form a proper answer. "Not at all?!"

"Not since...before Charlie..." I whimper, and he decides then to skip the third setting and push it on full speed. "Fuck," I curse, leaning forward and trying to wriggle from his grip.

"You gonna come for me?" he asks, his voice like velvet, and even though my head's spinning, I try my best to focus on the feeling creeping up on me.

"Oh, God," I whisper, eyes closed and legs shaking as I struggle to stand. "Shit, I...I..."

"Come on," he begs, pressing the toy harder against me, and that forces me to let go, the bliss flowing through my for those few seconds of release. 

But he doesn't move, and it starts to be unbearable, and I wriggle in his arms. Still, he keeps it pressed there, laughing lightly into my shoulder. 

"Oh, no, you're not done," he decides. 

"Bobby," I whine, and the high speed he has it set on already has me on edge for a second. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

And that's when he raises his hand to cover my mouth, muting my cries and hushing me as he gives me no mercy. "Your mother is downstairs, miss Thomas!" he scolds lowly. "You don't want her knowing what you're doing up here, do you?"

I squeeze my eyes shut, loosening up as the second one hits me, realizing full well he isn't going to let up anytime soon.

"Is that two?" he asks, and I nod with a loud moan, muffled by his hand. "Good girl. Keep going."

I try to repeat his name, but it's unintelligible by the cover of his palm.

"I think I like this thing," he tells me. "All I have to do is hold you here, and I can keep you coming again, and again, and again..."

I fake cry, a whimper of sorts, but I can't focus as the third wave hits me, and now my legs are jelly and the only thing holding me up is his arm.

"Ask me to stop and I'll stop," he reminds me quietly. "But you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

I can't answer, and I don't know how much more time passes, but probably only a minute or two before I hit a fourth, and that's when I hit my limit, and I'm gasping into his hand.

"Okay," I plead, and he lifts his hand so he can hear me. "Okay, I can't...stop, stop, please..." 

He smirks, shutting it off, and tosses it back into the closet for the time being. Then his fingers trail between my legs and he take a breath before releasing me and nodding toward the bed.

And despite how weak I am from...that...I'm still drunk enough to need to feel him, and I'm eager to pull him down over me after he strips. I attach my mouth to his, kisses still as passionate and needy as downstairs, and I'm quick to grab his ass, knowing he likes it. He's not shy about letting that known, either, because now he's the groaning mess, biting my lip and grabbing at my hips. It's rough, and needy, and heated, and I fucking love it. Usually I'd be a mess, but I haven't had the nightmares in a while, and the wine is making me loose, and...

He's quick to push into me, slipping in easily after all that torture he let down on me before, and it's not long before he picks up a fast pace, his forehead glistening with sweat. But it doesn't do justice, and even with my nails in his ass cheeks to help out, it isn't enough. 

So I break our kiss and listen to his breathing, leaving my own kisses on his neck, probably biting a little too hard, but whatever. He doesn't seem to care.

"Jesus, Rach..." he grunts out when my teeth nip at him.

But I don't feel guilty, and instead, I'm begging him for more. "God, fuck, Robert...fuck me, come on!"

"I am fucking you!" he groans. "I don't wanna hurt you, shit..."

Either way, he picks up his pace as much as he can, and that's when I get the idea... 

I wouldn't normally be this bold, but he's messed with me enough for one night, and now it's my turn. So I bring one hand back up, slicking my finger with my own saliva, and he apparently doesn't notice, because when I reach back down, I stroke between his ass cheeks and he jerks slightly, shocked by that gesture. He lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine in stunned confusion, and after a silent moment of stalling, he's quick to capture my mouth in another french kiss, going back to his steady thrusts with a new fire.

And that's when the wine lets me tease him a few times, and eventually sink my finger into him, which makes him shudder and forget how to breathe for a second, from the sound of it. I do my best to slowly move and give him what he wants, but it's hard with his motions, as well. But he's quick to shudder, groaning, and after only a minute or two of that, he's pulling out to release, cupping the mess in his hand and sighing in content, so I withdraw from him and catch my breath.

"What the fuck..." he laughs awkwardly, shaking his head against my chest. "That...was unexpected..."

"Did I do it right?" I ask, sleep heavy on my eyelids now from the wine processing through me, and he nods eagerly.

"That was fucking insane," he breathes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm good," I smirk, nodding against the pillow and closing my eyes. "I don't think I can walk right now..."

He laughs again, and it's perfection. "Take a nap, I'll go handle saying goodnight and the clean up."

And that's exactly what happens. I don't move from the bed, I fall into sleep until the next morning. He tells me no one's oblivious to what we were up to, which is embarrassing, but they didn't hear, they just assumed. My mother gives me a suggestive smirk when I finally shower and wander into the kitchen for..well, not breakfast, but a hungover lunch, but as always, she doesn't ask, so I don't tell. 

On the way to the airport after packing that afternoon, I find out the tour is selling well. It isn't a sell out, by any means, but Robert's quick to aid, having Jimmy post on his social media stuff to get the word out. I feel like the past day has just been promotions for me, and I wanna see what the fans have to say, but haven't had a chance to look. I'm too tired and hungover still.

"You can sleep on the flight," he promises before we board, and I nod, following him on and taking a seat against the window until we start taxiing.

"Still not gonna tell me where we're going?" I ask, and when he sits across from me with his hand under his chin and a smug look on his face, he finally gives in.

"London."

I roll my eyes, sitting back and crossing my legs under the blanket I've pulled on. "Seriously, still gonna be a guessing game?"

"London," he repeats. "No tricks. I have a penthouse, we're gonna use it."

And that makes me sit up instantly, dropping the blanket in alarm. "London?! Like England?!"

"Yup."

"I...I don't have my passport, and that's...Robert, that's a ten hour flight!"

"I packed it for you, don't worry," he informs me. "Like I said, you can sleep on the flight. It'll be about ten when we get there, so we'll sleep in a couple hours, adjust to the time change."

I blink, running a hand through my hair, and he must notice how confused I am.

"Relax, okay?" he requests softly, and it reminds me of that scene in Iron Man 2 on the jet. "I told you forever ago we should go to England. So now we're going to England."

"You have a penthouse in London?" I repeat, going back to that first part. "You never...I didn't know that."

He shrugs, sitting forward in the seat after we take off with his hands clasped in his lap. "Don't use it much. That's it. Just the four."

I shake my head slightly, taking that info in. "So...you have property...in England..."

"We have property in England," he corrects, and my eyes widen, staring at him. "You seem to forget you're living with me, so you have access to all four places, too."

I take a deep breath, pausing for a moment, before, "this has been a really, really fucked up twenty four hours..."

"It wasn't that bad..." he grumbles, pouting. "If you really don't want to go, I can have them reroute us."

"No, no," I sigh, "not in a bad way. Just...a lot has happened."

"Yeah, you released a music video," he reminds me. "That's gotten over a million views on YouTube already."

"And the tour...Dev said most of em have half sold out already. I mean, they're small venues," I rant, "but..."

"You uh...you fingered my ass," he tries to joke, which only makes me laugh, licking my lips and shaking my head again in disbelief at that one. "Which was awesome, by the way. Thank you."

"Okay, that's weird," I laugh, sighing. "Don't thank me."

"Thank you," he repeats.

So I roll my eyes, then stand, heading toward the back. "I'm gonna go to bed...and I mean actual bed, like after some water. No funny business!"

"I'll be in in a little bit," he agrees with a soft smile. 

"Okay.." I whisper in agreement, but then hesitate. "Are we really going to London?"

"Yes," he chuckles, sitting back in his chair again. 

"Huh..." I mumble in amazement, then turn back toward the back of the plane, but he stops me one more time.

"Hey!" he calls, and I turn over my shoulder, clinging to the blanket I took with me.

"Yeah?"

"Love you."

I smile kindly, adoring his transitions from cocky to caring as if there's no real difference. "Love you more..."

I wind up sleeping the whole night through to relieve my hangover, which is fine by me. I like flying, but I'd get restless on a flight like this if I had to be awake the whole thing. I wake to Robert dressing again, changing from pajamas into something weirdly fashionable...not to me, but according to him. He's got brown pants, yellow high top shoes to match his yellow shirt, and a gray jacket to throw off the color scheme. I can't help but roll my eye as I wake up to that sight, but I quickly change, realizing the plane's since landed and we're just waiting for the car to go to the penthouse; he's ordered one of his own to be valet driven here so he can drive it back, itching to drive on the England streets again.

"Is it cold?" I sigh as I find something decent to put on as a jacket, and he shrugs. 

"Unseasonably warm. It's not snowing, but it's chilly...and it's supposed to rain later."

I grumble but collect my things, then head toward the front to thank the pilot, as I have been doing as of late. He's right, the windows are frosted, and I can see my breath in the air when I exit down the steps and to the tarmac, but it's definitely not frigid. It's...I'd put it at maybe fifty? Which I'm used to, especially after living in Pennsylvania for so long. Robert...not so much. He's taking his sweet time getting changed and layering up inside, and I wait with security for the car, which arrives a few minutes later.

"Are you ready yet?" I call back up at the plane.

"Almost," he nearly sings, and then he appears a moment later, hopping down the stairs with a smug grin...and a fedora on top of his head, probably trying to fit the part.

I can't help but laugh when he makes it down to me, bag in hand for our night at the penthouse. I shake my head, grabbing his hat and removing it from his head when he approaches and swings the bag into the back seat.

"What is this?!" I grin, teasing him.

"A relic from Holmes," he admits. Then, in a British accent, "completes the outfit, wouldn't you say, miss?"

"I reckon it might look better on me..." I tease, making him burst out in laughter.

"They're British, not southern!" he howls, making me blush.

"It still looks better on me," I snap playfully, grinning ear to ear as I hold it on top of my head. "It makes you look too formal."

"So maybe I was taking you dancing," he protests, arms across his chest.

"You?" I joke. "You haven't danced a day in your life."

He frowns. "We danced at the wedding."

"Yeah, like a year ago," I remind him.

"No," he protests, pressing his brow together as he thinks. "Are you sure?"

I nod, removing the hat and setting it in the front seat of the car. "Formal dancing, anyway... Our schedules just haven't matched up for anything else."

He watches me for a moment, then takes my hand and pulls me a few feet from the car, placing his free one on my hip and taking the not so familiar pose.

"So dance with me right now. For Valentine's Day."

"Robert!" I giggle as he pulls me to him and sways in a circle. "They're gonna kick us off the tarmac!"

He smirks, eyes watching me carefully. "They'll let us."

I blush, forgetting the power we have in these types of situations. I don't like to abuse it, but he's right...

"There's no music," I point out and he grins.

"So sing something!"

"I don't...I-"

As if saving me, I suddenly feel a cool chill of water droplets hitting my shoulders, drizzling down before the clouds open up and it starts to pour. Robert whines, obviously upset, but I can't help but giggle as my hair and jacket start to soak through.

"Are you kidding?!" Robert yells at the sky, blinking rain from his eyes as he looks up. "It wasn't supposed to hit till later! I'm so sorry, babe...shit, this was supposed to be perfect, I had it all planned out..."

"It's just Valentine's Day" I point out, not bothered at all.

I'm smiling widely, looking up and letting the rain land on my face, detaching from Robert and letting my arms out wide. I laugh out loud, letting then water drop off my eyelids and nose when I finally look back down, meeting Robert's gaze. He's no longer upset...in fact, he's slowly widening his own grin as he watches me softly.

"What?!" I chuckle, "afraid of a little rain?!"

He scrunches up his face and tugs off his jacket and lays it on the roof of the car, then roughly shakes his head, the water weighing it down splattering everywhere as it continues to rain. "Nope, are you?"

He watches as I spin around, dancing alone in the downpour, and then I finally wind up in his arms, leaning into him as I laugh in enjoyment. I'm so loose, so relaxed and just happy and thrilled to be here with him right now, no press, no schedules, no rushing...

I sigh when he wraps his arms, sticking to his wet shirt, around me in a small hug. Then when I let my hands wander to his soaked chest, I look up at him and bite my lip at his adorable expression. He's content...happy as well. His eyes are soft and their chocolate depths are glimmering with amusement as he takes in how carefree I look...and God knows why, I usually hate these holidays... I'm just in a good mood, I guess.

"Marry me," he offers suddenly, quietly, catching me off guard.

My smile fades slowly as my breath catches and I narrow my eyes slightly, trying to read him.

"What?!"

He doesn't falter. "I wanted to wait cause don't have a ring or a speech prepared or anything...and I told you I would when I was serious, but you are absolutely stunning and you have no idea how in love I am with you. Every laugh, every light hearted, beautiful moment... You complete me, you accept me...and I just realized I want to dance in the rain with you forever. So let's just...let's get married."


	99. Chapter 99

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just some fluff. I was watching Ally McBeal during this and I feel like it affected my writing lol, oops. This one's for Julia who is the only one who's gonna get the reference...maybe.

"Rach?"

I blink, shaking my head a little and focusing again. "Yeah?"

"I said, do you wanna get in the car before you catch a cold, or are we still playing in the rain?"

Rain. Right. Shit.

"I, uh..." I swallow awkwardly, realizing I daydreamed the whole fucking thing. "Sorry, yeah."

He looks puzzled, and it's cute, but I can't tell him what the hell I was thinking. Hi, yes, I just had this serious daydream about you proposing to me while we're standing here soaking wet on the tarmac with your security probably pissed off at me for keeping them out here, so is that gonna happen, or...? Yeah, I can't ask that. No way. Why am I even thinking it? It's Valentine's Day...maybe our discussion the other day...but... We have been closer, right? 

But he didn't ask, I just imagined that whole scenario, and that's making me blush, so I let him close the door behind me after I sink down into the passenger seat. He's quick to hop in on the driver's side, relieving the airport security so they can get somewhere dry. The engine is started and he rubs his hands together, reaching for the heat controls on the dash before putting on his seat belt.

"You okay?" he asks before glancing my direction, and I nod, rubbing my arms and shivering just a little bit. "Cold?"

"Just a little," I laugh.

"What the hell is on your mind today?" he asks next, smirking as he reaches into the back and unzips one of the hanging bags with a nice outfit - a suit, I assume. "Here," he tells me, coming back with the jacket, "this is the only dry thing up here, everything else is in the trunk."

"I don't want to ruin it," I decline, but he raises an eyebrow and keeps it out, forcing me to take it cause he knows better than I do that I want it.

"Just take it."

"It's gonna get wet," I protest, but he lays his head back in the seat instead, arm still extended.

"Rachel-"

"Robert, I'm not ruining your suit!"

"I can buy a new one," he states, amused. "There are thousands of suits in the world."

"But it's going to get wet and-"

"We are going to sit here forever if you don't take the jacket," he tells me steadily. "I don't have a blanket, and my coat's wet, and I'm not letting you freeze."

So I finally cave, accepting it with a sigh and pulling it on. "Thanks..."

He smirks again and huffs into his hands, trying to warm them, so I steal them and place them in my own, leaving a warm kiss on the back of one with a lingering glance that he watches with fiery eyes.

"I'm just thinking about you," I tell him softly, and keep one of his hands in my lap in mine while he drives with the other, and then we're off into the city.

It's weird...everything is on the opposite side of the road, you know how it is. And it hits me then that we're in another fucking country, and I'm with freaking Downey Jr and I'm kinda famous, now, too. And I'm staring out the window in awe against the rain as he drives, admiring the buildings, which he promises to take me on a tour of before his top secret dinner plan.

We drive through the country first, and we make a few stops. The usual tourist spots, Oxford, and all of the movie locations for films he wasn't in yet still knows about. Harry Potter, for one. We stop for lunch at a cafe, grabbing coffee and staying cuddly for the outside seating, watching passerby's and enjoying the fact that we aren't being stalked by fans...yet. I guess his suit jacket on me and his ridiculous outfit, mismatched and wet hair curling, kind of hides us in plain sight. There's chatter about the tour, but then he's driving us back toward the city, and I pull out my phone from my wet jacket pocket underneath his suit jacket, decided to see what's up on social media before we make it to his place.

There's some chatter about my tour, and I like a few tweets about that before going back to the video Jimmy posted on Robert's pages for him. There's a photo, the one I remember taking, and then a video clip of Robert holding me on the edge of the couch, both of us fixated on the TV. He points briefly at a part of it, and I nod, grinning, and it's adorable, it is. The comments are cute...for the most part.

Until I read a few that aren't so happy.

@Jes9ss: Guess he does like younger girls, especially the drunk ones...

It's her. I recognize the name. She opened this new can of worms, still salty over the fact that she couldn't get into his pants the other day when she was hanging off of him...literally. 

But I can't get mad at it, I can't let her see it's bothering me... So I just like his two posts and then slip the phone back into my pocket, steadying my breathing so he doesn't notice, either. But that's quickly a bad mistake, because I instinctively go to drop it in his jacket pocket, going for my top layer. My hand drops in with it, and I know I'm not daydreaming this time, because there's no jolt back to the present.

My phone slips out of my hand, and is replaced by another object found in his pocket...something soft, velvet, almost. And small. Square. Something that jewelry would come in...

"Everything okay?" I hear, and it makes me jump, not realizing how mesmerized by the hidden secret in his pocket I am.

I remind myself to breathe, then clear my throat. "Yeah, just looking at Instagram," I say, and he smiles, dropping his hand on my knee from behind the wheel.

But I can't focus on that, I can only think about the object my hand won't let go. It...it has to be a ring, right? It's that kind of box. It's...it's Valentine's Day. And he flew us to London. Holy shit, it's happening. Okay. Do I say yes? Is he gonna ask at home? Or at dinner? If I say yes, I'm engaged. To fucking Robert Downey Jr. I'm going to marry him. If I say yes, of course. Would I say no? Why would I say no? He's nothing like my dad. I don't want him to be like my dad. I don't have daddy issues. And he is...he is gorgeous, he is...I'd be...I'd be Rachel...Downey...

He squeezes my knee with another smile and I glance over at him, adoring the cute curve to his nose and realizing I never want to look at anyone else's facial features the way I do his. But I can't let him know I'm onto this, so I force my hand out of the pocket and pretend like I don't know and wait, butterflies invading my stomach, until we make it to his place. 

There's valet parking, so he drops the car off, and the bellhop takes our bags in. Go figure, he'd have this kind of service even in England. 

"I can carry my own stuff," I protest in a hushed whisper as the man carries the stuff in well ahead of us, giving us privacy.

But Robert takes my hand and walks us in, no press on our trail yet. 

"That's what they have jobs for," he muses with a hint of humor to his voice and a silly smile on his face. 

"That's rude," I point out, and he chuckles.

"I'm not saying that's all these people are good at, I'm just saying, this is why the position was hired for. Otherwise they're just going to stand around all day, and-"

"So they hired people to wait at the door for you for the two times you ever come to this apartment?" I tease when we board the elevator.

"Only me," he agrees. "Sometimes it's three times."

"You're an ass," I sigh when the doors close, and that's when he decides to take me by surprise.

He pushes me up against the wall, eliciting a squeak from me, and he's close, grinning, but he stays an inch or two away, his hands around my waist.

"You like my ass," he whispers, carrying on that conversation.

"You like me playing with your ass," I toss back, smug smirk on my lips, and my eyes flicker down to his mouth, but he doesn't give in.

"I do," he confirms with the raspy, deep voice that I love and a crack of his jaw, that thing he does every time he tries to be playfully teasing. "You...are the first woman who's tried to play with it."

"Really?"

"Uh huh," he confirms. "And I am really, really self conscious about my butt."

"That's a lie," I nearly snort, arms wrapping around his shoulders, and his lips twitch.

"No, I'm serious."

"Are you?"

"Very. And the way you stare at it sometimes...wow," he ends with that tense twist of his neck.

I bite my lip, suppressing a grin of my own, and dare I say forgetting that something very important is in his coat pocket, still hanging from my shoulders. Right now, my focus is on his mouth, his seductive voice, and the idea that we're in London, going to his penthouse...our penthouse. What in the hell has my life become?

"Kiss me," I whisper, a demand, and he moves his eyebrows, ready to oblige...until the doors ding open and he detaches himself, taking my hand and leading me into the hallway to his door.

He tips the bellhop, who's just leaving, and then we're alone...in an open concept penthouse, with a huge ass window and view of the city streets. It's only a one bedroom, probably because he only uses it while filming here, but it's quirky, just like him, and cozy, and I can't believe that this is...well, he said this is mine now, too.

"Like it?" he asks, and I try to push down those unsettled feelings from the elevator and nod, wandering the kitchen and circling the island to make it back to him. 

"This is crazy," I admit, and he laughs.

Then he takes his jacket, motioning toward the bedroom to hang it up with the rest of the suit still in the bag. "Wanna shower? I have a res at the Shard at seven, so you have some time to get ready."

"The Shard?" I question, and he nods, hanging up his stuff. 

"You'll see. Trust me, you'll like it. The views are spectacular...especially at night."

I take a deep breath, trying not to let it be known that I know about the ring. I tense up, just a little bit, but he notices through narrowed eyes when he comes back, lips tugged up at the corners. He's trying to work it in his mind, I can tell. I know his reactions too well. 

"You're thinking," he guesses, and I sigh.

"Just...just a little overwhelmed by all of this, I guess," I lie. "You know...Valentine's Day was never really my thing, with everyone just mashing it up with my birthday and then the last two year's events with Charlie, and-"

"Hey," he cuts me off, moving forward to rest his hands on my cheeks and steady my face...his very, very soft, big hands... "You're with me now, right?"

"Yes..." I nod between them, and he smirks. 

"I promised you a proper Valentine's Day date, and you're going to get it. So just let me have this...don't worry about anything else, just enjoy tonight. I swear you'll be surprised."

My heart must be beating loud enough for him to hear, but he doesn't comment. Instead, he finally leans down and gives me that kiss I asked for in the elevator, this time more soft than heated, and he lets it linger for just a second before smiling softly at me and letting me go.

"Do you wanna shower first or do you want me to?" he asks, and I exhale, thinking.

"I'll uh...I'll go," I decide; I thought about saying together, but I don't know...just that personal space thing again, with this new knowledge... "That way I can dry my hair when you're in."

 

"We are such a boring, normal couple," he groans as a joke, and I can't help but laugh. 

"Not all the time," I argue. 

Thankfully, my mind calms down a little while getting ready for dinner, and his suit jacket is dry and wearable by the time he changes, too. The black suit with small, thing white pinstripes on the pant legs goes well with the white high tops he puts on. After I changed into a red dress, knee length, to be festive, I saw him hesitate, going for the white glasses he likes before changing his mind and using the dark black frames instead. I know he'd pick the white ones usually, just because they match a little better, but he knows I like the dark ones.. Seems like he's going out of his way, and that kills me...in a good way. More like makes me start panicking early...I only have a few more hours to figure out my answer...

"Why are you so nervous today?" he asks when the car drops us off at a tall building in the city.

"Nervous?" I repeat dumbly, and he nods before opening the door. 

"You seem tense. It's just a date. We've had them before."

"I just...I'm not nervous," I promise. "Jet lagged, maybe. I'm okay, really."

"Are you sure?" he asks, and I nod before he slips out of the seat and then helps me out behind him. 

"Yeah," I smile. "I'm sure. And you're incredibly handsome tonight," I offer; it's the truth.

"Thank you for noticing," he teases, and I roll my eyes as he takes my hand and walks us to the door, ignoring a few flashes of paparazzi that were probably expecting to catch some celebs on dates for Valentine's Day.

We board another elevator, and he nuzzles my neck when we're alone, besides one other couple, who snicker when he acts like they aren't even there.

"You are absolutely breathtaking," he tells me lowly, "and you smell great."

I blush, scolding him with my eyes, to which I receive a smile.

But something actually gorgeous? The view. He's right.

When we make it to the restaurant and they take us to our table, the view is all I can take in. The insides is dimly lit with candles, a buzzing atmosphere. The sound of dishes rattles and loud chatter. Classical music somewhere overhead, light and barely there. But outside...outside is all in sight. The walls are pure glass, not just small windows, and we are thirty one stories up in a big building that overlooks the major part of the city of London, and he's gotten us a table against the wall, the seats angled toward the views, and this is incredible. 

I can see everything possible. He spends a good deal of time pointing out things down in the city streets, and he agrees to take me on an artistic tour in the morning, having a spare day to spend tomorrow. The food is perfect, and he orders me wine, per usual, and this is the most private-public date we've had. This is the one time I'm actually happy he's famous, because his fortune can get us this kind of privacy.

My nerves are calmed, and I completely forget that big elephant in the room that he doesn't know is there...until after the courses are cleared. After I take another drink of the wine, he taps the table nervously, weird for him. I notice from the corner of my eye when I thank the waitress for the refill I'm nursing, and then he leans back in his chair, rubbing his jaw and taking a breath.

"Bobby?" I ask, an amused grin on my face.

"Hmm?" he asks, perking up a little with raised eyebrows.

I glance at the table to our side, who are caught looking at him before returning their discussion back to their table, which makes me laugh. The mood here is great...people of some kind of status, so no fans tonight, but it's also a completely different atmosphere and culture and it's making me feel confident. 

"You're being weird now," I smirk. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he insists quickly, sitting back up with his hands under the table. "Sorry."

Okay then.

"I can't believe we're in London," I sigh to change the subject, shaking my head as I sip at my new glass and look out over the city. "You're absolutely insane."

"That's what they tell me," he agrees, smirking before dropping a hand into his pocket. "Speaking of, I have a little something for you..."

I blink, setting down my glass. He seems serious, and I start to panic. But a good panic, not a bad panic. 

"We said no gifts, I remember," he starts, reminding me of a short conversation we had in Atlanta when we agreed we didn't need to buy each other things for every holiday. "But..."

And that's when my breathing stops. The second he sets it on the table, pushing it toward me, my heart skips and falters and my jaw's slack, my eyes locking on the small black container. It's...it looks like it really could be...maybe not, maybe I'm over thinking...am I?! He told Jimmy....didn't he? Or was that actually a dream? But the night in the car the other day when I fell asleep...

I watch him fish out the small, velvet box I was playing with earlier today. He's fumbling with it in his hand for a moment, staring at it. 

My natural reaction to try and suppress my emotions is to focus on the table, ignoring everything but the sound of his voice.

"I know I got you the necklace and the bracelet and...I haven't gotten much else since," he rambles. "So this is to complete the set."

"Robert," I whisper, but he nudges me.

"Just open it," he encourages.

So I take a deep breath, my shaking hands going for the box. I say yes, right? I say yes? Is he going to formally ask? Or do I just give him an answer now?

I crack the box open just the slightest bit...and then my breath leaves my lungs, in a calm, relieved way.

All that panicking...for nothing. Don't get me wrong, the two earrings in the box are absolutely beautiful, but it's definitely...not an engagement ring... I don't know if I'm relaxed a little more or what, but when I look back up, he's watching intently, I guess to gauge my reaction.

"Are these-" I try, trying to find words, and he nods. 

"More diamonds, to go with that necklace. Do you like them?"

I nod quickly, running my finger over them. "Yes," I breathe. "They're stunning! Thank you..."

"I love you... Happy Valentine's Day, babe..." he smiles softly, which warms my heart.

I might've said yes...I think I want to...but when he's ready to ask, too. And maybe tonight wasn't that night, I don't know. But that doesn't matter; what matters is he's going out of his way to make sure everything is perfect for me, and that means everything. Plus...we still have the rest of the night to go, right?


	100. Chapter 100

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry about the last part? If anyone's like, uncomfortable with it or whatever, leave me a comment or something and I'll adjust the story as it goes. Also have the next like ten parts planned out so don't worry, things will be happening.

The way he looks at me the rest of the night gives me shivers. There's something unspoken. Something he's quiet about, but I'm not going to push. He walks us back down to the car after dinner, his hands warming mine and his nose back to my neck, leaving light kisses there. There's light laughter, there's intimacy, and there's happiness as he murmurs his affections into my ear. 

Despite the other people about and the apparently obvious fact that we're in England now (thanks, paparazzi from earlier and the internet), he's giving off more PDA than we really ever have, and that's saying something. He's handsy and he's making my stomach flutter with butterflies like we used to feel just with the closeness.

"You are absolutely everything I've ever wanted," he whispers into my ear when we get back to the penthouse, taking the elevator up and to his floor. 

It makes my heart skip a beat, hoping that maybe there's something...something else, but I don't know how to suggest that and I don't want to ruin things. Last time we talked about marriage, it was a big ordeal, and...

"How was your Valentine's Day?" he asks next, soft and pleasant as he leads us into the living space, locking the door behind us after letting me go for the first time since leaving the restaurant.

"Very nice," I confirm, smiling as I drop my coat.

He's quick to take it from me, draping it over the side of the couch with his own jacket, his free arm finding its way around my waist again.

"Shall we, uh...take this to the bedroom?" he suggests, lightly grazing my cheek with the back of his hand as he glances at my lips, which twitch in amusement at how innocent he's being.

That's all he utters for the rest of the night. He's slow...he's teasing. He doesn't kiss me right away, but his hands undress me carefully. He doesn't look at what they're doing, or at my naked body as he drops my dress to the floor... His eyes are steady on mine, his gaze not wavering even when he drops us to the mattress.

The heat from his skin pressed against mine warms me, and it's making me skip a breath for some reason. It's not like we haven't had sex before, but this...this slow burning that he's eliciting...it reminds me of like, that first time you're intimate with the person. I feel like I'm blushing, but it could just be his breath, hot on my cheek as he teases me with his lips before finally stealing them with his own.

The following day I wake up to a cuddly mess. He refuses to let me go, but it's a chilly, but finally sunny, day, so he promises to take me to see the architecture and art museums. Weird, right? Normally I wouldn't be interested in such things, but I know he is, so I want to share that interest a little bit. Plus, it's London, so it's definitely a good place to start.

The best part? When we walk down one street, attempting to ignore a couple cameras across the way, there's a big billboard for Iron Man 3, coming out in the spring, with his face on it. He brushes it off, but I insist it's important and make him take a photo for me, standing in front of it, Tony with Tony's actor.

That night we get the photos back from Napa, the ones he had his photographer come to take. And they look good. My favorites? The one of him kissing my cheek with his arms around me, the one of us against the railing with that beautiful view in the background, and even the suggestive one where I unbuttoned his shirt I was wearing, him behind me with his hands on my waist and lips on my neck, and my arm up and behind his head. Despite how risky I was...I was smiling, so I adore them. And I kind of want to post one, even though I wasn't...wearing any pants... At least the shirt was big enough to cover what shorts normally would.

So with his permission, I post one to Instagram...a different one of us sharing a kiss. Partly because we've been so giddy and in love...and partly because I just want to rub it in the face of that girl who won't leave him be.

@Rachel_Thomas Spent Valentine's Day with this guy. I love you <3 #myvalentine @RobertDowneyJr 

Anyway...things get weird when we get back to the States. Specifically when we make it to our hotel suite after another long flight. There was plenty of sleep when we got in that night, since there was lack thereof the night before in England, so I'm not tired today. But I'm not prepared for the excitement my mother and Devin bring in when they arrive after lunch, just a few hours before preparations for the release party tonight. Robert lets them in after downing one of his protein shakes they have him on for the new Avengers, and they're on me instantly.

"How was the trip?!" my mom asks, and Devin is quick to follow up, coming to give me a giant hug.

"I'm so happy for you!" she tells me, and I shoot Robert a confused look over her shoulder.

"Why?" I ask, seriously lost. "Do you really like England that much? I'll bring you next time..."

"It was good," Robert answers my moms question, scratching his head with a pressed lip smile that confuses me further. "It uh, didn't quite go as planned. Didn't get to do a couple things I wanted to, but maybe next time..."

"Huh?" I question, puzzled. 

My mom takes a breath and her smile lessens, but Devin seems disappointed.

"What's...going on?" I ask, but he shrugs.

"Just the weather. Rain didn't help the first day, you know?"

I sigh, realizing he must've actually been upset by that little blip in our plan when we arrived. "Are you really bothered by that? I had a wonderful time..." I take his hand and squeeze it, then turn back to the other two. "He's a great tour guide."

He feigns a smile, and then gives a small kiss before ushering me off with Devin to start makeup; I refuse to call in anyone special when I know I can do it just fine for myself. Yes, this is big for me, but I want to be me this first appearance, not...not someone else with all the makeup and hairstyles and jewelry... Not someone like Randy had turned me into.

While she's doing my hair, though, I can't help but go back to my phone, silently searching social media. I'm excited for tonight, but I'm just...confused. Confused at why he was so intimate this weekend over a pair of earrings and confused as to why my mom and Dev were so excited to see me. So I need a distraction.

"Nervous?" Devin asks, and I sigh.

"Not really, actually. I used to be, but...with how well sales are doing, and the promotions..." I admit. 

"People like you, Rach," she tells me softly, curling a piece of hair. "Remember when we were sitting at that table at your cousin's wedding two years ago and you were insisting you would never get a career in music?"

"Yeah," I chuckle lightly. "If you asked me now, I still wouldn't believe you...even if it's what's happening."

"You did it," she celebrates, and it's so full of love and admiration over our several years of friendship that she makes me smile and nearly cry, I swear. "This is your day, this is your dream since you were little."

"I wouldn't be here without Bobby," I answer, smiling up at the mirror to take a break from my phone. "And all of you guys."

She smiles back, then focuses back on my hair. "He loves you, you know."

"So he says," I smirk. 

But my attention is caught by a quoted tweet of mine, one from years and years and years ago. 2008, from the looks of it. 

@Rachel_Thomas gp should be thrilled to get to touch that chest, good LORD...marvel did good casting rdj

I blink, forgetting how often I used to use this before I focused more on my career. But what's worse is the following one...about his ex, looking back on one of the times he was arrested.

@Rachel_Thomas just saying but if i was dating him i wouldn't just toss him to the dogs cause he hit a bump in the road. man's talented, just needs some support.

And of course, it's that chick, digging up old stuff of mine and calling me out. Quoting them saying things like 'once a thirsty fan always a thirsty fan' and 'funny how she loved him then but hates his fans now'.

"I don't hate his fans..." I mumble, fuming quietly.

"What was that?" Devin hums, not paying attention, so I brush it off, hoping he doesn't see it before I can talk to him. 

"Nothing..." I mutter, turning off my phone.

"Right...well, let's talk jewelry. Earrings, rings, what?"

When I look up, my jaw's slack and she's holding up a chain, inspecting it for a necklace, and I blink. "Huh?"

"Jewelry," she repeats, as if those words meant nothing to me...is she onto something? "Are we wearing any?"

"Oh," I breathe, putting my phone away and standing up. "Yeah...let me get the dress on and then we'll see what works, but I left out the earrings Bobby got me for Valentine's Day on the dresser in the bedroom, if you can grab those?" I call as she wanders out to find them and I strip, not caring cause we've seen each other in our underwear before...it's a friend thing.

"These diamond ones?" she yells back and I confirm.

"Yeah, the longer ones in the black box!"

She returns with them moments later, looking at them with curiosity, which makes me furrow my brow as I tie the tie around the waist of the short dress and fluff out my freshly curled hair.

"He got you earrings?" she questions, and I nod.

"Uh huh...is that a problem?" I ask next, retrieving the box, and she blinks, shaking her own head to dismiss it. 

"No, no...just didn't know what he had planned..."

I glance at her awkwardly, but then focus on calming the nerves that are creeping back in. All it is is a small arrival at a venue in town. Just us, a couple of his friends, a bunch of friends from both labels..without Randy, of course. The band. Devin, my mother, my aunt and uncle and everyone who was in PA before the conventional a while back flying in. They're coming for the night, so I haven't seen any of them yet, but that's for the after party. I'll make a speech, take a few photos, and sing a couple songs, and then it's just a party, per usual. 

Robert matches my multi color dress nicely, his suit pants dark and his dress shirt red to match the red specks in the floral patterned dress. His high tops are burgundy, custom made to match, and he's got the dark frames on just for me. He usually wears them to these things, and that's okay...I like the look, it makes him look more...sophisticated, I guess.

He's encouraging, but I'm mostly used to these things by now. Drop off point. A couple cameras out front and a small carpet. A big display of the album cover. I try to play it down, but inside I'm screaming in excitement because this is literally what I've been dreaming of since I was a kid.

I won't bore you though, because there's so much commotion that Robert's quiet and Devin is following with my mom, so I go through photos quickly. He's on my hip, his free hand in his pocket as he stands by, but doesn't make a scene. He keeps reminding me this is my day, and he's not going to let anything ruin that for me.

I'm quickly detached from him, though, as I'm walked with Devin to take photos alone with my CD in hand in front of the big backdrop, and he politely takes my mom's side, chatting with her. They seem to be conversing easily, but he scratches his head, something he does when he sheepishly tries to defend himself or he's nervous, and I can't help but wonder what it's about...

Regardless, right after that I'm taken to the stage, to the room full of already waiting people, and I'm introduced by Delilah before I'm escorted up the stairs with my guitar in hand, ready to play a couple songs with the band already in place behind us.

"Hi..." I start awkwardly, not because I'm nervous, but because I'm just...too emotional, actually. "I uh...I think I'm going to make this really short, because I should've prepared for this, but I didn't because I didn't want to get too nervous before hand..."

I laugh lightly at myself, running my hand through my hair.

"I always wrote songs as a kid, or tried to sing others, you know, just as a hobby. But as I grew up and dealt with some things in my life, they became more personal, and I just realized how much other artists helped me. Not just music, but...movies, too," I admit, glancing at Robert, who's smirking from the back.

"So I always wanted to be someone who helped other people, too, because I always felt alone and didn't want anyone else to feel alone... Okay, now I'm rambling..."

I sigh, clearing my throat.

"Point is, I never, ever dreamed of getting to stand here, holding a copy of a CD with my name on it, with my songs on it... And I don't know if I could've gotten here myself. So this isn't just about me today, this is about my band," I add, motioning behind me next, "my label, everyone that helped manage this and put this together... My mother, my family, my manager, who have never, ever given up on me. And my boyfriend," I add sheepishly, "who has been my rock, and my support, no matter what has happened."

I grin, catching his warm eyes again. 

"I love you, babe..." I say sweetly, quietly, and there's light laughter and awes from the people in the room, which makes me blush and get back to the point. "So to anyone who's congratulated me so far, please congratulate all of these people first...because without them, my dream wouldn't have come true. Thank you...for all of this, and I hope we get to work together for a very, very long time," I conclude.

And then it's a set of songs they've heard before, especially Robert, who's listened to the album already, so I'm comfortable playing them. And then it's a bunch of meet and greets with people and thanking them for coming to celebrate for me, and photos with this that and the other, and finally, finally I'm allowed to snack and grab a drink and exhale.

Once I have my drink in hand, I find my way to my family, who is talking with my band mates, so I let them finish that conversation before saying hello. Robert's off to the side with Devin, who got her eyes set on one of my cousins, as she usually does when we're around him. Daniel, one from DC, who's not around often because he's on a minor league soccer team trying to work his way into the MLS. He's kind of famous locally, but other than that, no one really knows who he is. Still, we let him have his moment...

We've never been close, but Devin's always been fawning after him and his toned body, conditioned from the years of playing the sport. Obviously it means nothing to me, but I get it, I guess. She'll never go after him, and he has a girlfriend, anyways, so I let her look for fun when she comes to family stuff with me. 

But Robert...Robert's listening to whatever she's saying with narrowed eyes as he stares at him in the group my mom's with. Then he stands tall, pushing his shoulders back, and holy hell has he never been more obvious.

"Am I interrupting something?" I ask, raised eyebrow as I stand in front of him, and he lets out a breath, diverting his gaze and relaxing his stretch.

"Uh, no," he lies, and I roll my eyes.

"You know you can talk to him, right?" I ask Devin, who glares at me before standing tall, herself, and decides to interrupt them to join him.

I roll my eyes, then smirk, turning back toward Robert with amusement. "So you just randomly try to show off when she's after a guy, huh?"

"I'm not showing off," he argues.

"Sure."

"I didn't know you had athlete friends..." he mumbles, so I sigh and wrap my arms around his waist under his own and sink into him.

"He's my cousin," I tell him, looking up at his bearded chin, which twitches as he feigns not being embarrassed.

"Yeah. I know," he lies.

"Okay, Larry," I sigh, but then lean up to steal his mouth in a kiss.

He keeps an eye peeked open for a second, eyeing the corner where Devin escaped to, but then succumbs and kisses me back.

"What?"

"This is exactly what you did for that role," I remind him. "Pout and try to be as fit as the younger guys... Yet even if we weren't related, I'd still want you instead."

"If you say so..." he grumbles, which makes me laugh. 

"I do. You're the most handsome man in this room, and if you really don't believe me, go watch that short cut of the new Iron Man they slipped you a few months back. You've got arms and abs that any other guy would wish he had."

"You watched that?" he asks, now distracted, which is what I wanted.

"I did. I had some down time after one of my meetings and you weren't home yet and I sort of went snooping in your office when I was bored," I admit, biting my lip, which distracts him further.

"I love it when you're bad," he teases, and I show my teeth in a grin, taking another kiss off his lips.

"Only for you..."

"Maybe..." he whispers lowly, "you can misbehave for me a little later?"

"I'll think about it," I agree. "Whatcha thinkin? Something kinky, something-"

"How about you touch my chest a little," he answers with that mischievous look in his eyes and I let him go, ducking my head in embarrassment.

"Oh, God, you saw that?" I groan, which makes him light up in laughter, pulling me back to him.

"It's cute, come on."

"It's not!" I argue. "They're digging up all that old shit and I did not have a filter, Robert! Okay, I probably-"

"I don't care," he tells me with good humor. "You told me you were a fan, I expected as much."

"But now everyone knows and they're gonna label us and-"

"And nothing. Stop worrying about shit that doesn't matter."

"They're not gonna stop coming after me," I protest, and he shrugs. 

"So let them. Honey, I love you. Okay, I just took you to England. You're allowed to tweet whatever you want about me or my body or-"

"But I went after your ex," I remind him. "I didn't mean to be rude but it sounded mean and-"

"Oh my Lord," he whines dramatically. "Are you forgetting this is a night dedicated to you achieving your life goal? Why are we talking about stuff that happened years ago?"

"Because it just popped up today, and-" I start, but he doesn't stop interrupting me.

"Rachel, I love you, and I am so, so fucking proud of you. Okay, you made your dream come true, you worked your ass off, through so much, and now you have that life you always wanted."

"Is it weird that when I imagined it, it was with you?" I whisper, and his eyes soften.

"Funny how things work out, isn't it?"

"Almost like fate," I huff, knowing I don't believe in that at all.

"Whatever it is...this is exactly how things should be and exactly how they will be for as long as you'll have me, I promise you that," he answers, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

My heart skips a beat and I don't know if I'm picking up on something or if there's something I'm missing completely, or if he's going to say more. But..he notices my nervousness and goes on, ending the discussion.

"Stop overthinking... I mean this as nice as I can say it, but for the love of God, shut up and enjoy the party," he instructs.

I do as told, narrowing my eyes at him before I let him go a second time. I love it when he's strict like this, honestly. He's got that tone, that toughness without being too serious, that makes me want to jump him with here. But...that can't happen.

So we agree to visit some more, and I wind up drinking a little more than expected, but who wouldn't have guessed that? Do I drink a little more than is necessary? Yes. But am I addicted to it or is it dangerous to my health? No. It's only at parties. I get tipsy. Never black out drunk. I never drive, Robert's usually there with me...

Point is, by the end of the night, he winds up taking me back to the hotel, where my family have already retired to. There's no more surprises at the party, even though I kind of wish there was...and I'm fighting down the urge to say something stupid. It's a lot like the after party to Sherlock, only when we get back to the hotel, he's quickly on me instead of pushing me away.

I gasp when he attack my neck and blindly walks us back into the bedroom, forgetting that my mother is on one wall of us and Devin on the other. I'm not quiet at all, though I should be. But his hands grabbing my leg and lifting it as he runs his palm down the length of it to take my shoe off is too much slowness for me, so I lay back, body cool from the lack of clothing that he's already removed, and bite my lip, letting myself fall to the alcohol.

"Do you still want me to be bad, Mr Downey?" I muse, giggling like and idiot, and he smirks, undoing the buttons on his dress shirt and undressing himself after taking my other shoe off.

"Don't tease, miss Thomas," he exhales, and that's when I sit up, moving to kneel on the edge of the bed next to him, my hands running down his chest and to his abs, messing with his head and stopping his breathing.

"How about you show me what you like?" I whisper, and his eyes darken as he looks back over at me, following my hands south as they trace his length and tease him for real.

He groans, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. One arm finds it's way around my waist, settling on my hip before going lower, grabbing my ass and making me tense for a second.

"You're gonna have to loosen up a little bit," he manages after my reaction makes my hand squeeze him and take him by surprise. "No...tension like that..."

The alcohol makes me giggle again, leaning forward to kiss his neck, feeling the stubble of his beard against my lips. And that's when I feel him let his hand wander and circle my backside, trailing between my ass cheeks and making me shudder at the foreign contact.

"You trust me?" he asks next, and I hum a drunken agreement against his skin. "You tell me if anything hurts and I stop, got it?"

I don't have time to answer, because he lifts his hand off of me and sucks on two of his fingers for a second, wetting them down before replacing it back where he started. I release him and cup his neck, falling into his torso while I focus on the weirdness of this, and then he's slowly inserting one, waiting for me to protest or change my mind...but I don't. I just gasp, sucking in a breath as the new feeling overwhelms me.

"Easy," he whispers. "First time, right?"

I nod silently, squeezing my eyes shut as I adjust.

"Am I hurting you at all?"

I shake my head, managing to find words. "No, it's just...weird. A little uncomfortable..."

"I'll make you feel good, promise," he tells me, then teases a second finger. "Just relax..."

I can't help but call out when he pushes in with a second. It's tight, and it feels forced for a second. It burns a little, if that even makes sense. But then his lips meet my cheek and kiss slowly up to my lips as he convinces me to turn my head toward him. He captures my mouth, distracting me before he starts to move slowly, out and then in, and then continuing at a careful pace until I'm a moaning mess into his mouth and it starts to feel decently pleasurable.

Bu then he stops, withdrawing, which makes me jerk, and he smacks my ass cheek a couple times, breaking the kiss to nod to the bed.

"Let's get you a little something first," he decides.

"Think I'm not ready?" I ask, but he laughs, finding some of that fire in him from before.

"I think you won't last as long as I will back there, so I'm gonna lay you down," he describes with a purr as he does so and my head hits the pillows, "and fuck you senseless until you come for me and then...then I'll finish there."

I can't tell if I'm shivering at that or if I'm shivering because of his lips which attack mine again, but he does just that, teasing me before pushing into me. He groan when he bottoms out, and I break the kiss when he starts moving, tossing my head back and gripping the sheets at my sides as I steady my dizzy head.

It's hot and fast and needy and he's not shy about being rough. His lips are on my neck, biting, and his one hand steadies himself as the other hoists my leg up and around him, granting him access to go hard and deep and fast, and I can't mute my groans anymore. He doesn't seem to care or remember our neighbors, either, because he takes my earlobe in his mouth next, panting into me.

"Come for me, babe," he begs, chilling me. "Let go and then I get to fuck that perfect ass of yours."

"God, fuck..." I curse, and I swear I've dug holes into the sheets.

He only encourages more, his kinky side taking over. "I like making you scream. Tell me you want me."

"Shit," I hiss, crying out and tossing my head back when I feel that bliss creeping up on me. "Yes, yes, yes, yes!" I yell, followed by a series of his name, probably loud enough to hear through the walls and I'm sure I'll get an earful tomorrow.

And eventually I arch my back and let go, and he kisses me again before pulling himself out.

"On your hands and knees," he instructs once he gives me a few seconds to recover, and I slowly do as told, kneeling on the mattress before bending over.

I feel a kiss plant on my ass cheek for reassurance, and then the palm of his free hand on my lower back, steadying me. Then, the shock sets in as I feel him drag a digit back down my core, past the usual spot and higher, toward my backside. His finger's coated with my own wetness, and he slips his fingers back in easily, making sure I'm prepped for him, I guess.

I loosen up when I feel him withdraw, but then he positions himself behind me and I feel him tease me with his tip where his fingers just were. He takes his time, rubbing softly to distract me. I grab at the sheets ahead of me, steadying my breathing as my head is slowly starting to clear of the alcohol, but then he pushes in slower than ever. I whine again, wanting to drop myself to the mattress, but he holds me in place.

"You doing okay?"

I can't think for a second, but eventually nod again, a little freaked out by the fact that he has his, well...yanno, up my ass. Thankfully, he's made the transition comfortable, at least I think...and it's making me beg silently for more pressure. Then he starts moving, slowly out and then back in, going a little further with each thrust...but it's nothing like that earlier pace and I'm glad. It's slow and careful, despite his edging release. At first, it feels like fire again...stinging as I adjust to the foreign movement, but eventually, it's back to pleasurable, making me buck my hips as I still grip the sheets on the bed with both hands.

"I can stop if you want," he reminds me after a couple thrusts, but I shake my head.

"No," I gasp as he moves. "No, please..."

I can hear him chuckle as he starts to pick up the slow pace a little, holding onto my hips appropriately. I whine a high pitched moan, sinking my head down onto the sheets as he goes, and it's only a couple of moments before he's pulling himself out and cupping himself, avoiding a mess as he releases.

I swallow, shivering as I let myself finally lay down on my stomach and breathe. He disappears just for a second, cleaning up, and then he's back to bed, sitting next to me and running a hand up and down my back, soothing me.

"How are you doing?" he asks gently.

I take a deep breath, not really sure. I feel like this should be weird, but I...it didn't feel bad. And if this is what he wants...then I'm glad I know what I'm supposed to do.

"Okay," I finally answer, and to my surprise, he shifts to straddle me, sitting over my back, and then starts working his hands on my shoulders, giving me a massage as a thank you.

So that's...that's the first time I've done that. I guess I really wouldn't have unless I was drunk, so I'm glad I was. Either way...we're definitely committed now, right? Talk about big steps...for me, this is one. For him...well....

"Thank you for accepting me," he whispers, leaning down to place a small kiss between my shoulder blades, which reassures me that he's more of a softie than anyone else would guess, despite a few other weird quirks I've come to love.


	101. Chapter 101

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Bobert posted my edit today. I love him lots. <3 That is all.

Because my birthday's on a Tuesday this year, my family's celebrating with me for a big lunch...all of which is paid for by Robert, if you couldn't have guessed. Most of them are flying out in the evening to return home, and we're taking the jet back to LA for a little bit.

Robert's working on both films, doing table reads and costume fittings and promos in California before heading out on a press tour for the new Iron Man. And trust me...the look he has going on is insane. He's been in shape since that winter he kidnapped me and took me to New York, but he hasn't let it go at all. He's...well, maybe he's lost a little bit of the muscle, but they have him back on a strict diet to start filming the new movies, and his hair is that perfect Tony length...

Anyway, point is, tonight we go back to Los Angeles, but for now, I have to endure my family for a little while longer. Which would be fine if they didn't make it weird the second we met the in the hotel lounge for breakfast...after a shower, of course.

"She's selling well," I hear Devin telling them as we walk toward the open space, the couple of other guests watching like hawks after doing a double take at Robert passing...or, us passing?

"This one's adorable," my aunt says, her calm, cheerful voice smoothly carrying out into the main hall. "That man's head over heels in love with her, isn't he?"

"Completely," Devin chuckles, I can tell her laugh from anywhere.

"Honestly, I still don't know how the hell this all became a reality..." my mother mumbles, into a drink it sounds like.

"So where's the ring?" my uncle asks next, and I sigh before heading in, shaking my head to myself at everyone pestering about that.

"I dunno," Dev answers, and when I lay eyes on their big table, she shrugs. "Thought maybe over Valentine's Day, but she didn't come back with one..."

Oh, okay, cool. So it wasn't just me that thought he was up to something? Great. That's embarrassing, isn't it? Not progressing when everyone else is expecting it.

"Morning," I greet, going to the table with coffee mugs and claiming the pot of coffee they have set aside on the breakfast bar. "You can all stop talking about me now."

Robert takes a spare seat after snagging his own, and then the taunting starts.

"Oh, good, you're alive," Devin sing songs, setting her phone down to eye me with narrowed eyes.

"I was drunk, I've been drunk before..." I remind her, assuming she's talking about the night before, to which she snickers and shakes her head.

"Don't think she's talking about the alcohol," my mom advises me, focused on a paper she's reading on the other end of the table, and that sets Devin off, dramatic as all hell.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes!" she mimics, and it makes my face light up red instantly, recalling the night before...and yes, I remember, and so does Robert the way he smirks behind his drink. "Oh, God, Robert, yes-" she continues, until I kick her chair and she giggles, stumbling a little before settling herself down.

"Don't, I'm still having nightmares," my mom sighs.

The stares from the other people in the hotel are definitely hot on my skin as I grind my teeth and clench the mug in my hands, ducking my head in shame. Of course she heard us...I mean, it's my fault cause I wasn't quiet, but...

"Devin!" I hiss, shutting her up, and Daniel, that cousin from last night, chimes in in her place. 

"Listen, I mean no offense to this, by the way," he starts, glancing at Robert, "but if he's making her scream like that at forty eight...tell me your secrets, man, cause I wanna be that good when I'm your age."

Thankfully, Robert doesn't take offense, and just laughs, grinning stupidly at his drink on the table top before draping his arm around the back of the empty chair next to him.

"Guys..." I groan.

"Rach, the whole floor heard you," my mom tells me, and I just want to crawl back into bed and hide, but I can't let them win.

So, when Devin nods toward the seat next to Robert and follows up with, "come on, sit down, I'm done", I deiced to start being more direct, if this is how they want to play.

"I'm fine standing," I decide, sipping at my mug. "My ass is still a little sore."

Robert nearly chokes on his own coffee, snorting in laughter into it, and it earns a scowl from my aunt and mother, as if they're on the same wavelength. My uncle is snickering. But Devin's wide eyed and stunned, not expecting both the fact that I said that and that I did that.

Aside from that, we spend the day discussing my album, and I'm actually stopped by a few people while we're out, who snag photos with Robert and I both. Some of my family I don't see often are a little star struck by him, and I guess my new found fame, but later on, my mom takes me aside to tell me how proud she is of me, even if this is still nuts in her head...she tells me that every time we discuss my career, honestly.

Sometime on Sunday, once we're back in LA, I'm called out to the alpacas from a very conspicuous text. I've been spending the day straightening up and shopping for furniture, because he's letting me redecorate a little bit now that the house isn't so much a bachelor pad anymore. Nothing big, but I'm allowed to change the color scheme of a few things...mainly the bedroom, and I get to add to the office; he's cleared out half of the desk for me to use, and I've ordered in a new computer that his team is gonna set up for me for whenever I want to record ideas and not drive into the studio.

But I give up on that, patting Aero on the head as he drapes himself across the couch, before heading outside to Robert's pets, where he's been most of the day. Only, this time when I go outside, he and Jim are helping a truck back up with a few guys in the field, and I am already regretting coming out.

"What in the hell are you doing?" I call, approaching them and wrapping my hoodie further around my cold shoulders.

"Special delivery!" he grins, guilty, and I roll my eyes.

"I don't think I want to know," I admit.

"Think of em as...an early birthday present," he tells me next, which makes me glance his way with a bored expression, knowing his tone can't be good.

"'Them'?" I ask, and he nods eagerly as they open the door, and next thing I know he's got three horses being paraded down the ramp and into the grass. "Oh, sweet Jesus..."

"Surprise!" he celebrates, hands up, and then goes to help lead them into the newly sectioned off field space.

"Did you put him up to this?" I sigh, eyebrow raised at Jimmy, who rolls back on his heels and shrugs.

"Dude's nuts, what do ya want?"

I close my eyes while I take a deep breath, shaking my head, and then exhale, loosening up. "Okay, I guess we have horses now..."

He tells me they needed a home and he wanted to expand his farm, and I just tell him he's crazy and we're going to turn into animal hoarders if he doesn't stop. It's a playful banter, but I'm okay with him having a hobby when he's home. He's been happier, more active...and he has the manpower to take care of them when we aren't here. That's the nice thing...anyone will want to be hired for weird jobs like this for him, so there's no problem finding someone who can handle it.

But then my actual birthday rolls around, and this one...is hitting me harder than last year did, which is weird, isn't it? Thirty should've hit me, but nope, thirty one is worse. First...first I have a slight nightmare, the first in a long while. It's just enough to make me jump, but I know where I am, so I'm okay. And I'm...alone.

Robert's had to work, so I get it. I have off, a mini vacation right after the album's dropped, and I've been watching the sales. Steady, nothing over the top, but I'll check again later and see what's up.

Regardless, I stumble into the kitchen grumpily, grabbing a bagel for breakfast, and then plop myself down on the couch with the cat. I don't feel like doing much today, so I turn on the TV and wind up watching sitcoms all day...starting with Friends. A classic. Literally would never get sick of it.

I'm slightly depressed I haven't even had the slightest of birthday wishes from Robert, though...no cards, no gifts, not that I need them...no tweets or texts or voicemails... Sighing, I check my phone again, and only the notifications from family on Facebook and a couple texts light up. A voicemail from my mom saying happy birthday; I'll call her later. 

I answer a few tweets, thanking the fans who are going nuts tagging me in stuff, and then check the charts. I'm not topping, but I'm debuting number twelve, which is unheard of, in all honestly! And then my eyes land on a tweet from a couple of Robert's buds...Chris, for one, and Gwyn, to which I reply a thank you with a couple hearts to each. And the last...the last one I look at makes my jaw drop and I squeal, dropping my phone to cover my mouth with my hands just as Devin lets herself in my front door. 

"I know, I'd be excited to see me, too," she teases, and I spin jump off the couch, staring at her. "Happy birthday!"

"Brad freaking Paisley just wished me a happy birthday!" I yelp, and she tilts her head, hanging up her coat.

"Who?"

"Uh, country singer, you know, the one-"

"Right, the one before Taylor," she sighs. "Well that's exciting..."

I nod, deciding to reply later because I don't know if I can type something coherent right now.

"What's Robert think of that one?" she laughs, coming to join me.

"Robert's at work," I sigh. "Left before I got up."

"I can tell," she muses, glancing at my pajamas. "You gonna get changed so we can go out?"

"Go out?" I ask, and she nods. 

"Birthday shopping, duh."

I sigh, sitting back down next to her and tuck my feet under my ass, grabbing at what's left of my bagel. "Fine, but let me finish breakfast first."

"Fine, fine," she agrees, then smirks. "Are you seriously watching him on your birthday?"

"Huh?" I question, but then glance to the TV to see...none other than him next to Calista Flockhart with reruns of Ally. "It was on something else before, I swear."

She laughs at me, but then I wind up focusing on the show, finishing off the episode where he leaves. Sad as hell. Sadder cause I know he had issues. But damn, am I proud of him for over coming that shit.

"Maybe he'll get you a big surprise like Sting for your birthday, too," she suggests, recognizing my sour mood when I finally get up to go get changed and she follows me into the bedroom.

"I already know Sting," I remind her. "And I doubt it. He hasn't even called yet today."

"He will," she promises.

"This sounds weirdly like the show," I sigh, ducking into the closet to change.

Then, when I'm in a decent outfit, I toss my hair up and go for one of his hats, heading back out to Devin sitting on the bed. 

"You think he's planning something special?" she tries, and I frown, zipping up the hoodie. 

"Probably not. He's got a table read, testing out some shit for his film. He'll probably be out late."

"No dinner plans, even?" 

"Nope," I mumble. "Guess you're stuck with me."

Thankfully, she drops the topic of Robert. I don't want to tell her what I'm thinking, because I don't want to sound like..needy. Because I'm not. I just thought...we were advancing, or something. But recently, despite how well we've been getting along, I feel like he's taken my previews views on marriage to heart and just...isn't gonna ask.

She takes me into downtown LA, going shopping for nothing in particular, but I enjoy the nice day, trying not to get my spirits killed by every minute that I don't hear from Robert. After lunch, I text him, leaving him a happy message in case he genuinely just forgot.

R: have a good day, thinking of you...love you <3

Just a little something cute, right? Yeah.

But by the time my day's winding down, I don't even feel like having dinner, so I ask just to go back to the house and make something, hoping he's home and just didn't check his phone. But the lights of the house are out when we make it back, destroying any of my hopes I had previously held.

Well...until we head in, and about fifty people jump out at me, shouting 'happy birthday' in surprise. The little bitch set up a surprise party, and that's why she had me out all day.

"Seriously?!" I gasp, glaring at her. "You should've just told me, I would've taken a nap or something!"

"That would've defeated the 'surprise' part," she grins, and I let my shoulders down, actually a little happy that she thought to invite the label, the band, some of Robert's friends... 

None of the movie stars, like him, but maybe this was last minute, I don't know. But...speaking of...no sign of Bobby or Jimmy, still. I sigh, deciding just to put on a happy face as I say hello and accept the happy birthday wishes from each person.

Devin's got music on shortly after that, and the kitchen's set up with food and drinks and she's even gotten me a birthday sash to wear. It lights up, and I feel silly wearing it, but this isn't a fancy, elegant party like we've been having. This is fun, with a DJ in one corner and dimmed lights and balloons.

Dave convinces me to do shots about a half an hour in, so by the time nine thirty rolls around a little later, I'm already pretty tipsy. Today's probably the day I stop drinking as much. Just cause...well, the next year or two are a little crazy. You'll see why. I take a break to dance, enjoying his friendship right now while Devin's scurrying to help the staff she brought into the kitchen, but the alcohol starts to wear off quickly since it was just a couple, and when they switch to a slower song, Dave invites me to dance, sensing my sadness.

"You doing okay?" he asks, and I nod, looking down.

"Yeah, just weird that I haven't heard from him," I admit. "Last week he was super cuddly, and today he just like...vanished."

"You know he likes to be sneaky," my drummer reminds me, and I nod, smiling a bit because I know he's right. "Think he'll show up in a bit with some big surprise?"

"Maybe...but I'm kind of tired," I admit, though it's really just cause my heart's not in it. "Maybe I should just sit down for a while."

"Or," I hear with a tap on my shoulder, but it isn't Dave. "You could stay up a little longer and dance with me?"

I sigh in relief, detaching myself from my band mate to turn toward him, Roberto finally back and in a nice shirt, some baggy pants, and his hair perfectly combed. I'm not sure if it's relief because it's just that he's here, or just relief that he isn't like, dressed up or anything, so there can't be some hidden surprise I'm not prepared for. 

"Mind if I cut in?" he offers, and Dave holds out his hands in gesture to take his place, then ducks out to go hang out with Devin. "I was gone one day and you've already replaced me..." he sighs dramatically, teasing, and I melt into his hold, breathing in his scent.

"It's my birthday!" I defend. "I texted you..."

"I saw it," he chuckles, chin resting on top of my head. "Happy birthday, sweetheart..."

"Thank you," I grin, biting my lip.

"I was driving across the world to get a specific cake Devin said you wanted."

And that makes me push off of him, beaming with excitement as I hold him at arm's length. "The triple chocolate one with the caramel frosting from Long Beach?!"

"Yes," he laughs, lips pressed in a smile. "Mind you, you're probably going to die if you keep eating this every year."

"We had it last year when I visited my friends," I tell him. "I deemed it the official birthday cake from here on out."

"Well, we have it, and it's ready to go whenever you are."

And I have just enough alcohol left in me to scramble for the island in the kitchen, yelling for cake. 

"Cake break!" I scream, and he watches, eyebrows raised.

The rest of the night is full of shots and birthday cake, and even when Robert slams a bit into my mouth with his hand and wipes the icing on my cheek, I don't bother cleaning it up. Eventually, he dabs it away, but about two hours later of dancing and drinks, I'm drunk off my ass, that feeling of calm and freewill running through my veins. I completely forget the idea of the proposal that I was sort of maybe daydreaming about. You know, him showing up to sing or something like the show, or just making a big entrance and giving me a ring, or... 

Ugh, stupid Rachel. Let it go.

Thank God the alcohol lets me. Because by the time I'm stumbling through the room and dump a glass when I trip, I'm only laughing and having a good time. 

Robert's arms encircle my waist and he lifts my glass from my hand, handing it over his shoulder to someone behind him, maybe Jimmy, I don't know, and then he's sitting me down on the couch, where I wind up dozing off.

Maybe a half hour later, cause I'm still drunk, but this time, I'm sleepy, too, he wakes me back up to move me into the bedroom. The guests have cleared out, and Devin's yawning, also tipsy. She shows Dave a spare room so he's not driving home, and Jimmy is taking the couch, and then I'm scooted down the hall and into the master, falling down face first into the bed and hugging a pillow. 

I can feel Robert tug my pants off, not to be weird, but to leave me in just my t shirt and underwear to sleep in. He's so patient and kind and caring, and it sets off my fluttering heart again as my thoughts are brought back up...this time dangerously with the shots.

"Did you have a good time?" he asks, pulling the blankets out from under me to reposition them, and I nod against the pillow in return.

"I liked...the cake," I stammer, and he chuckles softly.

"Devin's idea. All of it," he tells me. "I tried to get out of work to spend it with you, but just didn't happen. I'm sorry, honey..."

"It's okay," I sigh. "I like when you work hard."

And then it's quiet as I yawn, exhaling slowly as I feel the room spin. I focus on steadying myself even though I know I'm laying down, still, and wait for sleep to call me into rest.

"I have off tomorrow," he tells me after one more quiet moment. "How about I give you your gift after breakfast in bed...to make up for today."

But because we all know I say stupid shit when I'm drunk...

"I'm gonna get a note, too, aren't I?" I sigh into the pillow, half asleep and barely audible, as I try to recall the episode we watched today and how his part said goodbye with notes.

I can feel him hesitate, brushing hair from my face to tuck it behind my ear, knowing I can't sleep without fresh air, and he sits on the bed with me.

"You're watching too much TV," he murmurs, but it sounds conflicted.

"I'm jus..." I mutter, "You weren't here so I thought you weren't coming home...or something."

"I got stuck in traffic, weirdo," he tries to reassure. "PCH was backed up, you know how it is..."

"I thought you were gonna propose and you haven't, so I'm gonna get a note," I repeat instead, ignoring him, and that's when he must realize I'm not going to be able to remember this tomorrow, so he tries to kindly end the conversation.

"You're drunk, babe," he smirks, I can hear it on his voice anymore.

I take a deep breath, confirming just that. "Exactly why I'm only telling you this now."

He must know I'm hiding this when I'm sober. He must understand that, because I haven't uttered a word about this yet. But he isn't upset, he isn't mad...he just listens, and I fucking love him for that.

"I told you...be patient," he requests softly. "That's just a character I played. It's not me."

"You left me a note the first time we had sex," I remind him. "Then you left."

But he's quick to correct me, his hand still soothing my hair and lulling me into a comfortable sleep, being the caring boyfriend still. "You left me, actually."

I keep rambling, my voice muffled by the pillow. "Just like you left her a note and didn't come back."

"That's because I went to jail," he chuckles, pulling the blankets up over me with a sigh. "Completely different story."

"Are you going to jail again?" I go on, and that's his breaking point.

He laughs, leaning down to place a kiss on the back of my head, then lifts off of the bed and turns out the lights before changing into his boxers and a t shrit of hi own for the night.

"Not that I know of," he teases.

And that makes me grumble in content, happy wit that answer. "Good. Don't do anything stupid, Bobby..."

I can hear that smile fade a little on his tone, but he doesn't sound upset. "Right..."

He just knows I'm talking gibberish right now and is probably going to tease me for this tomorrow. So, he falls into bed on the other side, pulling the sheets over himself and making them rustle loudly. Then he lays behind me, hand on my back, and draws circles into my skin, breathing deeply.

"Go to bed, birthday girl," he requests.

But I'm already out, drifting off into the blackness that'll make me stop talking and stop acting like a crazy person...for now.


	102. Chapter 102

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I fell asleep writing this last night, so I figured I'd just combine the next two parts into one long part. I'm working on an alternate ending to Ally McBeal as a fic, too, so that might be up tomorrow if I write it quickly. That'll be separate, so make sure you follow me if you want updates on anything else I do! Also Julian Wells deserved better, GOODNIGHT.

After waking up to a nice surprise under the sheets the morning after my birthday, Robert resurfaces and grins, lopsided and adorable with his hair a mess, watching me catch my breath.

"That's gift number one," he muses, kissing my abdomen. "Gift number two is in the garage."

I run my hand over my face, groaning. "You can't just nickname my-"

But he cuts me off with a laugh, then pushes himself out of bed to toss on pants over his boxers so we can head outside. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Thomas. I actually have your gift in the garage. You know, like the one with my cars?"

So I follow him after pulling on new clothes. 

He doesn't talk about the night before, not that I need to...I don't really remember much after falling asleep on the couch while he got us ready for bed. His team must've cleaned up this morning, because it's spotless. There's leftover breakfast, probably from Devin and whoever else stayed the night, but they're MIA now. I mean, it is almost noon, so they must've let themselves out with her help...

Anyway, I hug onto the hoodie I've tossed on while he leads us into the space, wondering nervously about what he has stored in here.

"So I know I've just been giving you jewelry, which is fine and all, but birthdays should be fun, so..."

And then he turns on the lights to reveal a very sleek, very shiny little number with a red bow on it in the corner.

"Holy...shit," I cuss, pushing in front of him to inspect his present...a Ducati sport bike in red with gold trim...and the Stark Industries logo on the side to top it all off. "Did you buy me a fucking street bike?!"

"You said you didn't know if yours still worked," he shrugs, and I do a double take between him and the bike.

"That was like...almost a year ago!" I gasp, then go back to it to run my hand over the grips. "I haven't mentioned it since..."

"I remember things," he tells me nonchalantly. 

"Oh my God...." I sigh, admiring the vehicle. "Is this a-"

"Panigale V4 R?" he questions, and I nod eagerly, stunned that he knows...but then again, maybe not, because he definitely knows his cars. "Best of the best, for-"

"Track," I finish for him, then turn back to him with wide eyes. "Babe, this is like, a thirty thousand dollar bike!"

"I know," he smirks, "I bought it for you, or was that not clear?"

"My bike at home is like six grand tops!" I tell him urgently. "Holy fuck, Robert, no! No, I-"

"Funny how you say no with my name today, but last week you were screaming yes-"

I smack his chest playfully, making him giggle again as he pulls his arms up to defend himself. "I can stop sleeping with you, you know!" 

"You?" he huffs. "Please. You wouldn't last without me."

"I would now that I have that little friend of your on screen girlfriend," I tease, and he scowls at me. 

"Rude."

But I turn back to the bike, sighing in glee. "I need to take this out, can I take this out?!"

With that, he pulls a set of keys from the wall and hands them over. "It's all yours, but I thought we could take it to a track and let you run it. I'll race ya."

"Race me?" I snort. "You don't even ride."

"I'll take the Audi. We'll face off."

"That thing's got nine ninety eight cc, two hundred and thirty four horse, you don't stand a chance!" I inform him. 

"Wanna bet?" he offers, cracking his jaw, so I narrow my eyes and hold out my hand in offering.

"Ten laps," I start, "I win, you let me redecorate the office."

"Seriously?" he groans, and I nod, knowing he doesn't want me messing with his 'man space', or however he said it. "Fine. I win, you teach me how to ride."

And I smirk, agreeing to that. Honestly, I'd teach him regardless, if he really wanted to learn. "Next week?" 

"Probably not for a while, actually..." he sighs.

I hesitate, frowning and tucking my hands in my back pockets. "Why?"

"I uh, well, I'm leaving soon, remember?"

"Leaving?" I repeat, blinking with a now straight face.

He nods, hands moving to my shoulders and squeezing lightly. "Press tour starts next month," he reminds me. "Which means...lots of touring. Out of the country touring."

"Oh..." I manage back, looking at him but not really like, looking at him. "And then I have my tour..."

"Didn't you check the calendar?"

"No," I sigh. "I haven't had time. Dev's got me booked with rehearsals for tour now that the album's dropped, and that means outfit fittings and stage approvals... This is my last couple of days off."

"You're gonna kick ass," he tells me, and I take a deep breath before he goes on. "But hey, every two weeks we'll visit, right?"

"Yeah..."

"We'll go over it all in a bit, if you want, but first..."

Then he glances at my lips and leans down to steal a kiss, which makes me sigh and loosen up. I melt into him, wrapping one arm around his neck as he slips his tongue against mine, and we kiss for a long moment before he lets me go. But his lips stay close as he presses his forehead to mine, smiling slightly.

"Happy birthday, love," he whispers, and it chills me. "You like it?"

"I love it," I agree with a pressed smile. "And I love you. Thank you...seriously."

He looks at me for a moment before releasing me, pulling out his phone and nodding toward the bike. "How about you go test out the seat and let me get a photo?"

I do so eagerly, and he's quick to put that up on his Instagram. 

@RobertDowneyJr Get yourself a woman who can do both...happy birthday to my other half. @Rachel_Thomas 

It makes me giddy, seeing him saying second half like that, so natural and easy. And that thought gets me through the next week. 

I start rehearsals, basically just a mapping of the stage in a ballet studio, and then we'll head back to the recording studio offices to go over plans. Once that's done, they're getting me a dance instructor, and a choreographer, and someone's working on a costume or two. Yeah, I'm just trying to stick close to my roots as far as bands go...you know, more musical aspects instead of theater. But this is also entertainment for the guests. This is a story of an album, and I'm ready to tell it, even if I'm not coming out about who each song is about right away.

Sometime during the end of the first half of March, though, Robert has cast photos with some of the Marvel guys for his shoot, and I'm bored for a couple day break, so I decide to join him. It's for a magazine, to promote Iron Man 3, and Don's meeting up with him. Gwyn is prepping for later..they're going to New York to kick off the press tour, and then he'll be headed over to Europe. I don't want him to go, not when things are finally going along strongly. But...a little time apart could do us good, I suppose. Could give me more reason to branch out, hang out with my friends, my family who I never stop to see even though I live right next door.

Anyway, I'm sitting side line as they dress him up and make him look pretty. I mean, he's always pretty. Davy makes sure his beard is neat and tidy, and they spike his hair to that perfect Tony length. He's got a little powder on his face to dull out the shiny tint to his skin, but other than that, he doesn't need much. 

And then they dress him. He's brought a pair of dark wash jeans to get into, then a gray dress shirt under shirt that he's putting under a suit jacket. Jeanne give him the sunglasses that Tony wears, and he has a tie slipped around his neck. It isn't a shoot to make him play the part of Tony, just one for the cast on the cover, but his style is so close to Tony that I can't even tell anymore sometimes. Yeah, when he's wandering around in high class expensive sweats, that's one thing...but the suit jackets and the jeans and the high tops...they're so close to the same person.

As they do the first round of photos, I go through Twitter on my phone, per usual. Jimmy's next to me in his own seat on the couch as I slump over with my chin in one hand, watching and joking around with the guys working the lighting. He's snapped a few behind the scenes photos of Robert as he does his solo shots before Don joins him, probably to save for Instagram at a later date. The Iron Man pose with his hand out is a given, and I chuckle slightly from behind my lowered eyes when they have him do it.

He's focused, though. Adorable as it is, his face is hard and he's into his work, so I don't want to bother him. I toss him a water bottle a couple of times, and then I'm back to my snooping online. There's replies to his photo a couple days ago of me and the bike, which I like some of, and then I just go on Twitter, scrolling through his hashtags.

@Strkk5938 can they like...not cut tony's nose this movie, or...

@IronKit_8x4 I just want to see him once. @RobertDowneyJr I'LL PAY WHATEVER if you'll just do meet and greets sometime

And that makes me laugh, actually, because I definitely feel that on a spiritual level. He's so stand offish, which does make sense given his past, but I'm working on changing that...

And that's when I have the bright idea to turn to Jimmy, jabbing him in the side. 

"Hey, when's he back from press?" I ask, and he checks his phone.

"Uhh, I think the LA premiere's the last week of April, should be home before that," he tells me. "Aren't you leaving in May?"

"Yeah..." I answer, though I'm not thinking about the tour right now. "So what's the deal with passes."

"Uh, we have them?"

"No, like...do we have any to give away?"

Jimmy looks at me like I'm nuts, not following my train of thought. "You want someone else to come? Devin has one, too. Your mom?"

"No, I...I want him to meet some people," I decide, handing him the phone to the last tweet I liked. "Fans. I was here, I know how hard it is. So let me talk to him and he'll agree, but-"

"Just take your shirt off," Jimmy shrugs, not amused. "It's easy to trick him."

I roll my eyes, going back to my phone. "I'm doing it. If it's not there, I'll organize something."

"He already does the donation campaigns," his buddy points out, but I shake my head.

"Not everyone can afford that."

"All right..." he sighs, sitting back. "Don't come to me when he's difficult."

"I won't," I tease back. "I'll just take my shirt off, remember?"

"I was kidding, you know how he is with this stuff, so don't be surprised if-" Jimmy starts, which makes me smirk as I pull up a direct message to that last tweet I liked.

"You don't think I can convince him?" I challenge. "You forget I'm sleeping with him...and he loves me."

Grinning and knowing this'll get on my nerves, he tosses back "not that much, he'd rather not go through the hassle."

I narrow my eyes playfully, typing away. "Uh huh. We'll see about that."

And then I hit send, sending this random account a message on Twitter that I'll probably get yelled at for later. 

Hi there! I saw your tweet and just wanted to say thank you for being such a big supporter of Bobby's. I know he appreciates you all, and I wanted to do something nice, so...how would you like to come out to LA in the spring? Just send me your details...name, date of birth, address...and a phone number please! And DO NOT share this information! This has to stay secret if he's gonna be meeting everyone! - RT

I'm definitely going to keep doing this...he promised to be better for fans, so I know I can get him to humor me. It won't be all the time, but...

"Rach, you mind switching his tie out for me?" Jeanne asks, pulling me back off of my phone.

When I look up, Davy's toying with Robert's hair as he does one of his wing chun moves with Don between shots. She's holding out a red and gold tie instead of the light gray one he's wearing now, probably to add to the Tony side of him some more.

I blink, confused, but accept, sitting my phone down and going to help her out. "Uh, yeah. Hold on.."

"Thanks!" she sings, turning back to the wardrobe rack to go through new jackets, I guess.

Kevin and a couple of the other assistants are off to the side, the others sitting in their chairs while I step over the wires and head towards his spot in front of the backdrop. He settles down and separates from Don when Davy leaves him go as well, welcoming me instead.

"Hi, cutie," he grins, to which I raise an eyebrow and focus on his neck.

"Having fun?" I smirk, tugging his other tie off after loosening it.

He only jokes, eyes dancing as his positive mood flows out of him in waves. "This is hot." 

"Just stand still," I tease. "Save that thought for later."

"It's vividly in my imagination now," he confirms, grinning stupidly.

I can't help but focus on the knot of the new one as I slip it around his neck and put it on for him, knowing how to tie them well after helping my younger cousin when we were kids. He sits still for once, though his hands are fumbling with his shirt button at the bottom. So while he's quiet, I let my mind wander to that idea...for later...

"Jacket?" I question when I'm done, turning to exchange with Jeanne, who swaps them with me so I can slip it onto his shoulders.

But when I turn back, I nearly do a double take, because Robert isn't standing as he was when I turned away. He's shorter, he's...on his knee...

"Oh my God," I gasp into my hands which fly to my mouth.

He's got that smirk on his face and one hand in his pocket as he fumbles with something.

"What are you doing?!" I nearly shout, and he shows his perfect teeth.

"Rach-"

"No," I counter, stepping back and dropping my hands. "No, is this for real?"

"Real as real can be," he promises, then pulls out a small box from his pocket, twisting it in his fingers a few times as he comes up with words. "It's funny," he settles on, "how many times I've thought about what I was gonna say, and now..." He glances back up at me, letting his shoulders relax. "Rach..."

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath to try and help, and...

"Rach?" he asks again. "Earth to Rachel..."

I shake myself out of my daydream yet again, realizing I'm still holding onto the new tie I've put on, and I haven't gotten the jacket yet, I haven't gone back to Jeanne yet... My mind's just wandered as I tied it on for him, to focused on that.

"Yeah, sorry," I mumble, shaking my head. "I was just thinking...about later..." I lie with a small smile, and he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"Just...stick that one in your pocket," he mumbles under his breath, nodding to the extra tie in my hands. "I'll use it to blindfold you tonight."

I shudder, thinking of that, but simply scold him with my eyes before taking a breath and returning to normal, this time really changing out his jacket so he can finish his shoot.

Leave it to me to be the weird one who is still daydreaming about a proposal. I didn't even want it before, but now...now I'm ready to jump into the water head first and I want nothing more than to know if he really wants to spend the rest of his life with me like he claims. Perhaps...what if I...girls can propose to guys, right...?

My fire is only fueled later in the week when he heads out to New York, leaving me in LA to start rehearsals for the tour for real. Like...actual dancing and stuff. There's a full five days of workouts scheduled ahead of me, with just a couple backup vocalists they hired for some of the upbeat songs. I'll meet with the band again the couple of weeks before we head out, just to make sure everything is ready for the stage music wise, but until then..I'm suffering physically. And a lot...between this and Robert in the bedroom, even if it's been tame since that night after the release party, I'm worn out.

And by tame, I mean no playing around, but the sex itself...still heated. Especially the morning before he heads out. His car is arriving soon and I've been trying to get him to pack the entire morning, but he promises his house has everything he needs there. Either way, he's ignoring me as I try to get him to get moving and make his flight on time.

"Kev will hold the jet," he whines, pouting like a child as he drops his bag at the door. "Marvel is nothing without me, they have to wait till I say goodbye."

"It takes two seconds to say goodbye," I tell him with narrowed eyes as he smirks.

"Not the way Downey's say goodbye," he growls, and next thing I know he's grabbing me, hoisting my waist against his body which makes me squeak out in surprise.

"I'm not a Downey!" I yelp, trying to be a smart ass.

But his mouth muffles my voice, changing it from a sarcastic reply to a low groan when he bites my lower lip and tugs. My hands travel straight to his hair, and with that, he takes it as agreement and walks us back into his living room. We stumble back as we focus on the kiss above all else, his hips never leaving mine, until he falls back onto the couch, me straddling his lap. 

He's got a hand in my hair the entire time, the other on my ass as he guides me over him. His face is buried into my neck as he tugs my hair back to give him access, so I'm blindly holding onto his shoulders as he sucks at my weak spot and leaves his mark...until he's close and he leans his head back, gripping into me harder with his nails before jerking up.

"Off, off!" he instructs quickly, knowing he won't last, and that lands him back in the bathroom, cleaning up and delaying his departure even longer.

The good news is I have gotten pretty comfortable with his list of people he uses for this, that, and the other thing. Most of them know me by now, or so he says for those I haven't contacted yet. But he's added me to his list for mostly everything, including his appointments, so I'm sneaking in a couple when I need favors, too.

Example? Getting my car serviced by his guy, and a haircut, just a trim but still, from his guy, too. While he's gone this is quite useful, since he can't help out with much from across the country.

I catch only a few minutes of him and Gwyn on Good Morning America one morning. They drop a final trailer, and chat a little bit about the film itself. They're cute together, and thankfully I'm not jealous much anymore about their friendship. I know how he is, and I know that I know more about him now..so I won't question it. Plus, while he's away, he's very chatty over text, and a couple calls before bed, too.

TS: I thanked her for her gift for you. ;)

He teased through text right after their interview, and I blushed in front of half the studio, I'm sure, but I don't even care anymore. I chat back with him the rest of the day, until he's got to go to film Fallon.

R: tell her it came in handy...four times

TS: She's warning me I might be replaced...

R: maybe...we'll see if i still like you when you get back

TS: Just like?

R: love

but we don't have to see about that, i know i do.

TS: Miss you. By the way, left a new tea for you to try for your throat in the left cabinet. Might help on tour.

He's a sweetheart, I swear. He and his herbal, natural stuff..I don't understand it fully yet, though I am adjusting to his diet, but this...is adorable.

R: thank you <3 You're amazing

TS: I know...

R: and arrogant sometimes

TS: That too. 

R: I love you anyway...come home soon <3

TS: Love you more. Let me know how you like it, I can order in more.

With that, he's onto the next interview, which I happen to catch in bed that night while I hang out with Aero and answer a couple things for Devin. Robert said goodnight a while ago, being in a different time zone, so I don't feel like staying up super late alone...but I want to see some of his press before he's in Europe and I have to watch online.

It's the usual introduction, and I asked him to say hi to Jimmy, but who knows if he did. Regardless they talk about the film, just like GMA did...and some other things.

"Is there gonna be an Iron Man 4?" Jimmy asks, which makes Robert crook his neck and look at him suggestively, letting him silently know he can't answer that.

"I...can't be playing Tony forever," he admits. "I don't want it to get embarrassing."

 

"You think it's embarrassing?" Jimmy grins, and Robert shifts in his seat. 

"I think I need to stop before my hair grays."

I snicker from the other side of the TV, knowing it's already graying...he just won't admit that. Then they go on, talking about Pepper's role.

"It's very much so...a movie about a relationship," Robert describes with his hands. "You know, Tony's ignored this woman who he's worked with for so long, and we found out in Iron Man 2, that they get together, so this one's got that focus on how they progress as a couple. And Gwyneth kicks some butt, too," he tosses in, tone changing completely form serious to light.

"Do you get to kiss her again?" Jimmy pries, to which I roll my eyes.

"I think there was one or two in there," he answers, his one eye closed while he tries to pretend think.

"So what does your girlfriend think about that?" Fallon presses, and he presses his lips together to hide his smile.

"She loves Gwyn. It's nice, having them be friends. They like...send each other mail and stuff now, so there's just packages constantly showing up to the house..."

My face drains, hoping to God he doesn't say anything more. He glances at the camera and I know he's teasing me without anyone else following, which makes me want to get back at him...I'll have to think something up.

"Well, I wanted to ask you a question," Fallon starts, calming down a little bit and looking down at his notes. "If you want to answer."

Robert just waits patiently, and I can tell he's preparing for the worst, his hands clasped in his lap now as he leans against the chair's armrest.

"So you have this incredible girl in your life now..." he starts, to which Bobby finally smiles and shifts again in his seat. "And your career is going so well...so do you think either of these go together or does everything just happen to line up at once?"

I admire Jimmy for not pressing and talking about his history, even though we know he is. He just isn't going to be straight forward, so Robert answers vaguely, not talking about his past but about...me.

"Let me tell you...she has been so supportive, so attentive to everything we've been working on, and I am so lucky to have her. I really think...she's keeping my head on straight right now. You know, like I was doing it alone before, but she's my other half, that thing I was missing. If you asked me why I'm still sober or why I'm still acting at my age..."

The audience snickers at this, and so do I, laughing at home and alerting Aero as I take him by surprise.

"Sorry, bud..." I reassure him, patting his back.

"...it's her. She makes me want to do more, she makes me want to be better," Robert finishes, which melts my heart. "She says hi, by the way."

"Tell her her album is great!" Jimmy laughs back.

"Isn't it?" Robert gushes. "I'm so proud of her...and I don't think I could see my life without her right now."


	103. Chapter 103

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miss your guys's comments. I hope everyone is doing okay. <3

"I just think," I pant, talking through my racing heart, "that changing his food...will only make him sick..."

Robert doesn't sound much better, but he isn't as much of a mess. He isn't sweating the way I am, and he isn't stopping to catch his breath every few minutes like I make him.

"Are we really talking about cat food right now?" he groans, and I huff, slowing down again.

"Yes. Yes, we are, because it's important and-" I start, but he interrupts.

"You're killing the mood!" he complains, throwing his head back, so I slow down to a stop and stare at him, arms crossed.

"What mood is that exactly?" I tease, catching my breath, and he puts his hands on his hips, sighing.

"The jogging mood," he informs me, "I have to be focused! You've been talking about the cat's diet for the last mile and a half!"

He isn't upset about it or anything, but he's right. Oh, sorry, did you think we were...yeah, no. Just a jog through the canyon, now that he's back from his short New York trip. He's leaving again in a little bit for the real press tour, and Gwyn's going with him, but not before some quality time off with me. And today's the perfect day, the perfect weather...so we decided to take our workout outside and go running together, through the trails in the hills.

"Well I'm not going to talk about jogging!" I argue. "It's painful enough to do it, I can't talk about it while I'm doing it, too, or I'd literally just jump off that bridge."

I point to the bridge leading down into the ravine to our side and he rolls his eyes, spinning around to pace a little and not let his heart rate drop.

"It's just a cat, not a child," he reminds me.

"He is my child," I defend.

"You know, someday," he heaves, "our actual child is going to ask why her brother's a cat, and I'm not going to explain that."

Oh...kay... Well, there's a lot to comment on there. The fact that he said our child. The fact that he said it so naturally. The fact that he's already decided it would be a girl. The fact that Aero would still be alive, considering he's already eight, and the kid could talk to ask, so they'd be at least a couple years...if not more. So that'd mean near future. But near future...near future isn't exactly what the doctor suggested, and hell, we aren't even...it doesn't seem like he has any intentions on even proposing soon, so...

Fuck, the doctor issue. Do I tell him now? Or ever? Or just like...let it happen when it happens?

But he's quick to read my mind, frowning slightly and placing his hands on my shoulders to stabilize me. "Did I freak you out? I freaked you out, didn't I?"

I feel my lips twitch but shake my head to clear it, refusing to meet his gaze. Maybe it's best if I just move on to a different subject.

"You're meeting fans, by the way," I tell him instead, to which he watches me for a moment before wiggling his eyebrow and accepting my change of topic.

"Yes, that's a thing I do sometimes."

"No, like, here. When you get back, I'm setting a big thing up," I clarify. "Think of it as a big meet and greet with some people I picked out."

He nods, letting me go. "So I heard."

"You know?" 

"Honey, believe it or not people do keep me informed. I know a lot more than you think I do," he smirks, stretching his arms behind his head.

I can't help but stare at the muscles under his thing shirt material, but I remind myself not to drool. "I don't know if I should feel safe or violated by that fact."

"Probably safe. I can violate you later if you want," he tosses back without missing a beat, and I sigh, shoving him slightly as I start jogging by again.

"Only if you beat me home."

"We drove here!" he calls after me as a reminder, but I hear his feet close behind shortly after that.

He is fine with it, though. Wasn't his first idea, but he agrees to meet them and doesn't put up a fight. Honestly? I might make this more than a one time thing. I like the idea of him meeting people... But I only did it with my spare time. Now, I'm going to have very little of that with my career actually starting.

After a shower and some time back at work at home, he's insisting on date night, since we really haven't had a real one since Valentine's Day. So he takes us back to Nobu, just us this time, but not before some light window shopping in the shopping plaza down the street.

Aside from the paparazzi who sneak in photos of us hand in hand as he comments on a painting in the window of a local artist's shop, there isn't much of a interruption. 

"What do you think, for the guest room in Atlanta?" he suggests, tilting his head at the black and white abstract paint splatter. 

I blink, not understanding his love for this expensive art, honestly. "I think I could fling my brush at the wall and make you one for free."

"Don't offend Hinnebusch like that!" he gasps dramatically, whipping his head toward me.

"Tell me his first name and I'll retract my statement," I offer, to which he hesitates, puzzled.

"Chris."

I chuckle, tugging his hand forward. "Not everyone is named Chris."

"Yeah, tell that to Marvel," he protests, but keeps walking with me anyway.

"You're not a Chris," I tell him as if he's forgotten.

"Nope, I'm a Robert!" he agrees, chipper as ever with a dorky grin.

I sigh, realizing once again he really is a child. "I know you are, sweetie. But his name is David. So you're wrong."

"What?" he asks, looking back over his shoulder at the store. "How did you know that?"

"Because I read the door. David Hinnebusch, gallery of modern art."

"Right..." he mumbles, annoyed I guess that he didn't think of that, but that's okay; I adore him anyway.

Dinner is nice, though I'm enjoying the fired heat lamps at the edges of the tables more than anything. It's nicer weather here than most anywhere else, but I've become accustomed to the temperatures here so now even they feel cold. Lord help me if I ever head back north when the below zero temperatures hit...

But then comes the conversation I don't want to have, the one where we have to discuss the plans for basically the next six months, given he's going to be gone, and then I am. It's going to be one more big separation, and I'm dreading it. If things are like they used to be, he's going to barely talk, and then I'm going to get worried over nothing, and then we're going to argue, and...

"So I leave after my birthday," he tells me, reminding me that's coming up and I haven't gotten him his gift yet...though I know what I'm doing. "Jim's getting a gig to play and we'll have a thing at the house."

"Sounds good," I agree with a bite of food with my chopsticks. "What day are you heading out?"

"The following Monday," he tells me, sitting back in his chair as he chews. "Got a few Europe stops, multiple days of press. Gwyn's on boar for all of it. England, Germany, France, then Singapore and China."

"And you're back here at the end of the month?"

"Mhmm," he agrees with pressed lips. "Have you met with Jeanne yet? I had her start on some dress concepts for you for LA."

"No," I sigh. "Devin said she emailed but I haven't answered back yet... I suck, I'm sorry."

"Just make sure you get in contact with her," he purrs, taking a sip of water next. "Need to make sure we're both looking our best."

"Uh huh..." I answer without enthusiasm by accident, which catches his attention.

"Why don't you come to England?" he suggests. "Or France? I could use a date."

I sigh, smiling warmly at his offer. He's teasing me, going back to one of those first conversations when he said he wished he had a date for his premieres. But I can't.

"I have nonstop rehearsals," I admit. "And costume fittings still, and dress rehearsals at the venue... I just really want this to go well..."

"Its only March," he reminds me.

"But I start in May, and that's only two months away."

He nods slightly, his lips twitching in agreement, but he doesn't push. "You'll do great, promise. And Devin's-"

"Devin's gonna be there," I reassure him, smirking, myself. "They can all watch me day and night if it makes you feel better. I'll be okay, though."

"No drugs," he scolds. "No parties, no-"

"Yes, dad," I chuckle, which makes him grimace and shudder.

"Not funny."

"Just relax," I beg.

"All right, all right," he agrees. "I have a list on my phone, so we'll figure something out. I really don't want to go longer than two weeks. Keeps me in check, just like Dan..."

"I keep you in check?" I laugh. "How?"

"Honey, I'm a mess without you." He lets his eyes dance across my face in the dark lighting, but he's sincere. "Before you, I had no organization. Might've looked like it, but I was winging it."

"I've barely done anything!" I protest, but he disagrees.

"You being here just keeps me focused. Keeps my life balanced between home and work so I don't overwork. Keeps me focused on avoiding that urge to use," he shrugs off. 

For some reason that hits home. I know he won't ever say it, but he likes protecting me. He's been doing it since we first met. Not that I should keep doing stupid things that need his protection, but he wants to help others, just like I do, and the shit I've gone through is shit that he's good at dealing with. 

"All right," I decide, tapping his foot with mine under the table. "I'll try to arrange something for France or Germany, just...have your people call my people."

He raises an eyebrow, amused by that response. "Your people? Your people are my people."

"So have them talk and figure it out!" I laugh. "I'll talk to Jeanne. I have to get her opinion on these costumes, too, so that'll be fine. I'll tell her we need a second dress for one of those and I'll match you."

"You think you can get away?"

"A long weekend shouldn't be hard," I confirm. "But if I tank in San Fran opening night, I'm blaming you."

"You're not gonna tank," he giggles stupidly. "How many shows again?"

"Twenty five. Whole country this time, not just the west."

"Big time star, just like I told you. How's the video doing?"

"Surpassed a million views the other day, thanks to you," I answer with pride. "Fucking crazy, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah, you're hot," he states as if I should know better. "They'd be stupid not to wanna watch it."

"It's not like I took my clothes off or anything," I laugh, but he tosses his napkin down on the table when the check is brought over with a smug grin and I roll my eyes. "Keep it in your pants, Downey."

"You know damn well you don't meant that one little bit," he mutters under his breath, then hands his card over the waiter, not caring at all that we're back to sex talk in front of him.

"We'll see, old man," I tease. "God, how the hell are you gonna be forty nine?"

"Uh, well usually that happens when another year's passed and you've already lived for forty eight of them," he explains. "Just as long as I don't hit fifty yet. I'm not ready for fifty."

"You don't look a day over thirty," I argue. "Seriously, did you see yourself in that cut of the movie?"

"You don't have to make me feel better, love," he chuckles. "I'll be okay. But what about you? Are you gonna survive without me?"

"It will be magical," I sigh dramatically. "Finally some silence, the bed all to myself!"

His eyes narrow, and I know he knows I'm kidding, but he's gonna play it up anyway. "You can sleep in the spare room tonight."

"Fine, just let me get my gift from Gwyn before you kick me out," I snap back, which makes him straighten his shoulders and suck in a breath.

"Well played. We'll both sleep in the spare room."

I love that he makes me laugh, because it gets my mind off the stress of preparing for this tour. When I talk to Devin or my mom, it's been constant questions and suggestions, but with him, I just tell him how it is and he moves on to the next thing.

"I'm gonna miss that laugh," he sighs, resting his chin in his hands on the table. "The past three months have been spectacular."

"What, living together?" I ask, thinking about it; we really haven't had too many issues adjusting, but again, we basically lived together before that, just at alternating houses. "Is it really already almost April?"

"Yup," he confirms. "Which means, by the way, that we have almost been dating officially for a year."

That should make me happy, but instead, it jolts something else into my mind. April. The month all that shit happened.

"And a year I've been clean...from the Vicodin..." I whisper, taking a quick sip of water, which makes him lift his head in confusion and concern, hesitating before speaking.

"You are...clean, right?"

"Yes," I nod quickly. "And if you want me to go to one of your NA meetings again, I will."

"You don't have to." He's sincere. "Just be honest with me. I trust you."

"Do you?"

"I do." He blinks, calm.

I force my lips to tug up with a hum. I don't like...not believe him. But I definitely don't feel assured of that. I've earned nothing to gain his trust back. Not even admit anything to him like he did with me after telling me about his time in jail.

"Something else is on your mind," he observes, tapping his hand on the table now.

"Yeah," I admit quietly, looking down. "It's April."

"Almost. Come on, it'll be good. One year, we'll do something special..." he rants with a wave of his hand as he usually does. "Wanna go away again? Or another retreat at home?"

"You don't have anything planned?" I snicker, letting my eyes travel over his thinking face for the first time since staring at the table.

"Oh, I do. But we can be wherever you want. We don't have to stay in LA, it won't matter to me."

I'm caught between this place of my heart fluttering over the idea of him having whatever gift of his he has already planned out, and also the sinking feeling of nerves washing over me. One year for us means...

"They'll let him out on parole..." I whisper next, letting that happiness fade from my face again as I decide to be open and give him a real reason to trust me.

I don't know what else to say, really, other than yeah, my mind's starting to wander to that. Not actively, but hearing Robert say April just reminded me... My hands fidget with my glass ahead of my on the table, due to the anxiety creeping in...until his warm them and rest over the backs, holding on gently.

"Have you heard something?" he asks quietly, and I glance up to his dark eyes before shaking my head softly. 

"No, just...that's my luck. And if they let him out...what then?"

"You have a retraining order," he reminds me. "He can't come near you."

"Yeah, with you or someone else to tell him no, maybe," I sigh. "But what if I'm alone? At the store or something. Or what if he comes to my mom's house, or to one of the tour stops? What if he comes to you on set? You'll be filming while I'm gone, right? He could fuck that up, and-"

"And that's exactly why I have security," he points out. "I'll send someone out to stay a while in Pittsburgh for your mom if you're concerned."

I nod, letting my thumbs play with the glass under his hold. 

"We'll hire you your own team," he continues next. "You should have one, anyway, now that your pretty well known. The venues should have security for you regardless, but I'll get you a couple private security guys for anything else. Any events, any time they drive you somewhere. And if you see anything at all, you tell one of them, you call me, whatever you need to do. Okay?"

"Okay..." I mumble.

"But that doesn't mean it's going to happen. Just better to be prepared." He pauses. "If he tries something, he's gonna have to answer to me first."

I can't help but bite my lip to hide a smile at that. I focus on his hands instead, how his thumbs are rubbing against my skin to soothe me, and it warms my heart. Of course he'd be protective, I knew that. But there's still a pit in my stomach as I panic about it.

"That's if he gets out," he reminds me. "You said two years, right?"

"Yeah," I exhale. "Yeah, it might not happen. I don't..." I groan, trying to figure out how to say this. "I don't know if I want to know. But I do. But...I'd panic less if-"

"Let's just wait for the year, and see what we find out," he decides. "If I hear something either way, I'll let you know, but I won't tell you unless you want me to."

"Okay..." I agree, calm again. "Thank you."

"Of course," he answers, taking one hand to bring it to his lips and kiss the back, proving he cares. "You're safe with me, Rach. Nothing's gonna happen."

"He's just...he's never been fond of you," I recall painfully, remembering when he found out about me even meeting him in Malibu two years back. "He guessed, you know? And I told him nothing was going on and then-"

"And we waited until you were broken up. You know I wouldn't have pursued you if you were spoken for."

"-and now, really...now it's exactly what he said would happen." 

"If I recall correctly..." he muses, "I believe he said something about'whoring around'. I'm in love with you, I'm not just sleeping around with you. So he's not really correct there."

"Say that again," I beg, eyes snapping up; I think I just need to hear that.

"What, he's not correct?" he teases, because he knows what I meant.

"No, the other thing..." I breathe.

His lips quiver, his eyes dark on me. It's that kind of stare that is analytical yet loving at the same time. The one he gives me often when he's thinking about something relative to me or us but doesn't wanna say it. I usually find out later, but I know when he's plotting.

"I'm in love with you, miss Thomas," he repeats, lifting my hand back up for another kiss on my...ring finger's knuckle, as though I wouldn't notice. 

"Keep doing that and you won't have to visit the spare room tonight," I joke, going back to the discussion earlier in the date.

"You think, uh..." he motions after letting my hands go. "You think you could wear that blue thing you brought out a couple weeks ago?"

I press my lips together and raise an eyebrow, thinking about that silly outfit I paraded into the kitchen in when he turned me down forever ago. "I think it's still in the closet."

"Good," he swallows, standing after retrieving his card back from the waiter who's now returned. "Shall we?"


	104. Chapter 104

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Was gonna write smut in this but it's well over word count and I'm tired and have work in 6 hours so I'm gonna save that for tomorrow. Enjoy anyway.

I've honestly been jittery all day. All week, really. And he's noticed. Well, he hasn't said anything, but I can tell. But I have good reason, I swear!

First of all...I had the brilliant idea to do something I never thought I would before. I didn't know what to really get him for his birthday, so I thought about the time we'll be away, and that conversation we had when he brought up what he thinks about when he...yeah, and I'm not there, and... Ugh, okay, so I might've taken some racy photos, in a few racy outfits, to have for his eyes only. I made sure of that. No other cameras in with the photographer. I used one of his, regardless, so if he trusts them, I can, too, but still... I don't like this kind of stuff and I never have. But for some reason, I wanted to be courageous for him. And I know he's not expecting it, so...

That, and, well, I might've done some shopping online, because there's no way in hell I'd ever actually go to the store to buy what I bought. I mean, I don't go into adult stores anyway, so either way, I would've had to buy online. But I couldn't go to Gwyn, because I don't think he's told her about his sexuality, at least not that he said to me. And I can't ask Devin either, so I'm in a whole other level of blindness when it comes to Downey Jr.

And it's fine, until the day before his birthday when I'm trying to pour myself a glass of orange juice from the fridge and I accidentally drop the lid on the ground. I'm having one of those mornings where things are just...annoying. Does that make sense? Like, just plain old annoying, aggravating, and put you in a bad mood, even if there's no reason. I guess I woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something, because I snap at him quiet a few times after muttering under my breath about everything going awry, even if it's just nine in the morning and he's headed outside to his animals. Well, it's probably half that and half the fact that I have to go pick up those photo prints today, and I'm both embarrassed and nervous about that.

"Missing something?" he tries to tease humorously as he leans down to pick up the cap and hand it back to me and I sigh, running my hand through my un brushed hair.

"I could've gotten it," I mumble, and his brow scrunches together at my rude comeback.

Yeah, it was rude, I'll give him that.

"You're welcome," he says anyway, then goes to steal a sip of my drink, which is a bad move right now.

I watch as he sets it back down, blinking as I dramatically pick up the carton and pour shake it again before topping off my full glass. Then I snatch it away, taking a big gulp before he can speak.

But instead of talking, he reaches over and removes the glass from my hand and sets it down on the counter, eyeing me suspiciously. 

"What the fuck?" I curse, which probably assures him that I'm in a bad mood.

"Someone's grumpy today," he comments. "Is that why you ran out of bed?"

"I ran out of bed because I was thirsty and I wasn't going to lay around all day and waste the day, I have errands to do. And I have to check the oil in the car before I go because we didn't do that earlier this week and then this stupid shitty plastic piece couldn't stay on the counter because it's so light, and-"

"Okay," he interrupts, which gets an angry growl from me.

But then he's quickly wrapped his arms around me, holding tight until I can't move, which is irritating at first, because he's buried my head into his chest and I can barely muffle out words.

"Stop, I can't fucking breathe!" I yell into his shirt, but he pats my hair and laughs in response.

"Nope, not until you take a breath," he tells me, to which I theatrically inhale and exhale with volume.

"Okay, now let me go."

"Are you gonna relax?"

"No."

"Then no."

"Robert, I'm serious."

"Hi serious, I'm Robert, nice to meet you."

Seriously? Okay. I guess he's choosing to annoy the shit out of me this morning, but that's fine. I'll just go limp in his arms until he stops this game.

And that's exactly what I do, till he asks me to breathe again after a few quiet seconds, and that's when I really breathe, taking in his scent of body wash and aftershave from trimming his Stark goatee and mustache he's been traveling around with. It's familiar and comforting, and then I think about what he just said...the fact that he's Robert.

That makes my arms go up with a heavy sigh and reach for his shoulder blades around his back, nestling my head further into his chest. He must be able to tell I actually do calm down now, because he rubs his hands up and down my back in comfort.

"You okay?" he asks finally. "Something happen?"

"No," I sigh. "Just a lot on my mind."

"Charlie stuff again?" he guesses, but I shake my head, able to turn it to listen to his heart beat.

"Not exactly," I admit, moving one hand around to his chest to rub up and down his peck for some weird reason; apparently I just want to feel him. "Just the average reminder of that, and of a year ago when having sex with you nearly killed me."

"Gee, that's comforting," he mumbles, and I instantly wish I could retract that statement.

"I didn't mean it like that, I just realized I wouldn't be here right now...I shouldn't be here right now. And...I just kind of wish I did things differently, cause then we would've been celebrating a year sooner."

"Sweetheart, we were basically dating since December," he tells me. "The only reason I didn't ask on a date then is because you had just gotten out of a relationship and I was convinced we wouldn't work out on an age level basis."

"And so you waited for your birthday to jump me in the hotel room," I chuckle.

At the sound of that, he lets me go, realizing I've settled down. Funny how he can do that...turn my bad mood into calm. He knows how to work me...how to manage my mood swings when I need him to, and vice versa.

"Haven't we discussed this enough?" he asks, but it's amused, not accusing.

"I like remembering it," I admit; I do. "When things were new and you made me so nervous..."

"I don't make you nervous anymore?" he frowns, running his hands up and down my arms instead.

I take the chance to take in his appearance, admiring his unruly hair and the dark pendent he has lying over his blue-gray shirt. He's got his blue shaded glasses on for the sunny day outside, and that goatee is neat and dark against his lightly tanned skin...I wish I could tan as easily as him, but it doesn't happen that way. Plus...I feel like I haven't seen the sun in ages; all of my free time has been going toward this tour. Seriously, besides dinner and date nights with Bobby, I've been focused on work.

"Not in the same way," I finally respond. "But don't worry, I still can't believe it's you."

"You know what's cool?" he answers quickly, so I tilt my head in question. "You're all weirded out about me being me, but now I can say I'm dating a millionaire, too."

Trust me, I haven't forgotten that I'm bringing in the big bucks now. Its fucking insane. But I gift a lot of it, too. Devin's being paid well. I'm spending it on helping my mom. I gave some as a wedding present, and I try to donate to charity when I can... I don't like that term, even if it's true, but I'm glad things are finally comfortable after all the time I put into working toward this kind of life.

"I know I've said this a million times, but Bobby..." I sigh, "I wouldn't be here without you. Without your help. With my music and...everything else."

"I know," he promises gently with a kiss to my forehead before whispering, "I'm so fucking glad you made it through that night, Rach."

I lean into him for a moment while he says that, and then force a smile. "So we've been having sex for a whole year, huh?"

I guess I just needed to lift the mood, because I can't stand all the serious talk right now. Yeah, I brought it up, but I just wanted to point out that with Charlie's potential release...comes all of that stuff, too. All of those memories, whether I want them or not. And yeah, things are good now, but that still happened, and I still have to pass every year knowing I let everyone down.

Anyway, he lets me go after a joke about my last comment, and then I head out to pick up my photos. I package them with a ribbon around them and some tissue paper later on, planning to give them to him early in the day in the morning so he can think about them until his party that night.

The next morning I wake him up with a sweet kiss, but tell him even though he's the birthday boy, he has to wait for birthday sex. Typical guy, right? Wanting that as a gift.

"Wanna go to lunch?" I ask after he insists on at least making out for a few minutes before getting out of bed for a shower. "My treat, we can go to Ollo or-"

"Let's go to a movie," he suggests.

I drop my toothbrush in the sink, brow pressed together as I stare at him wrapping a towel around his waist after getting out of his shower. His hair's plastered on his forehead, but he runs it back with his hand shortly after stepping out to mess it up a little.

"A movie?" I question.

"Yeah," he grins reaching for a hand towel to dry his head further. "There's a theater near the plaza, we can go catch a matinee before the party."

"You...have a home theater..." I remind him, trying not to stay the dip in his hips where his towel lies. "You'll get mobbed at a theater."

"I wanna watch a movie with my girlfriend on my birthday," he shrugs. "Sue me."

I blink, rinsing out my mouth finally after that, then take a deep breath. "Okay...sure. What do you wanna see?"

"I dunno, I'll pick something when we get there," he answers.

I leave the bathroom to change into decent clothes and not just my underwear after that while he finishes up with his hair and whatever else he's doing. The photos are siting in my part of the closet under a shirt, knowing he won't snoop through the same shirts he's seen every day. So I decide to pull them out and fight down my nerves that are still remaining from the other day as I meet him back in the master suite.

"I uh, I wanted to give this to you now," I manage, hands shaking as I hand him the small package. "I don't know if I-well, I just went for something...different this year, and...you know what, why don't you just hold onto that until later after I've had a drink or two," I rush to decide. "This is just part one."

He inspects the tissue paper, but accepts it and runs his thumb over the ribbon on top. "What if I wanna open it now?"

"You...can...." I mumble awkwardly. "Just humor me if you don't like them because I went way out of my comfort zone for this gift, and-"

"Is that why you've been all jumpy?" he chuckles, and that's when he tugs the ribbon to untie it and my heart starts beating wildly, nerves going nuts.

"Partly..." I admit.

He smirks as he lays the ribbon on the bed behind him, and this is...weird. He's still in his bath towel and his eyes are focused as he tears back the paper and opes the envelope.

And then they widen, flipping through the group of photo prints I took of me in some particularly lacy and revealing outfits like I know he likes...a couple with those boots he begged me to keep on back at my first real show in Los Angeles.

"Oh....wow..." he states on a breath, jaw cracking slightly as he tenses up. "This is..this..."

"It's stupid, I know," I mutter. "I'll do better."

"No, no!" he insists, still going through them. "You look uh...fuck."

"...Thanks, I think."

He swallows, noticeably, then holds one up and lets his eyes flicker between me and the print. I blush instantly, looking away on instinct.

"You uh..." he mumbles, staring still, so I try to explain.

"I just know we're gonna be apart, and....and instead of just thinking about that one outfit, I thought I'd give you a few to look at in case you...you know..." I manage. "There' another gift, but this is the main one...so...sorry if it isn't what you were expecting, but-"

But he's quick to cut me off, dropping the photos on the bed before rushing up and planting his lips on mine in a searing kiss, body pressed to mine as his towel unties. I can't help but smile slightly at that reaction, glad he at least appreciates them.

"You are," he speaks against me, "the best damn girlfriend in the entire fucking world."

I squeak when he pinches my butt gently, and then break away from his kiss, biting my own lip.

"Is it okay?" I breathe, and he nods eagerly. 

"Better than okay."

"I look silly," I groan, but he shakes his head without a second thought.

"You look fucking hot," he corrects. "Let's skip the movie."

"Not a chance, birthday boy," I chuckle, relieved the photos were a good idea. "Patience, young padawan."

"I'm older than you," he laughs, then kisses my cheek. "I'll wait, but those photos are gonna be on my mind all day."

"That was the plan," I whisper, trying to sound seductive as I lean up for another short kiss to his thin lips.

Weirdly enough, there isn't much of a hype around him being out today. Yeah, there's some cameras snapping photos of him, and a couple from fans in the parking lot, but we sit in the back with hats on to sort of blend in, and it works well in a dark theater.

I couldn't tell you what we decided to see, though. He bought tickets, and then about a half an hour into it, well after he lifted the arm rest between us to pull me into his shoulders with his arm around me, he leans over to press his nose into my cheek, giving me a soft kiss. I smile and lean into it, hand on his knee and he takes that as a sign to pepper a few more kisses against my jawline as he lifts my head toward him with his index finger. 

He's like a teenager, wanting to make out at the movie, and it's extremely adorable in a way. I'm sure he's still got those photos on his mind, but I'm just glad it isn't a full theater..I can kiss him without annoying anyone else who came to actually watch the film.

But that...that is nothing. Compared to his party that night, the rest of the day is cool and collected. Pleasant, really. Just the two of us.

But when we get back, Jimmy's already there and helping set up for later. Robert's got a special Iron Man cake waiting on the counter, and there's now balloons and a stage set up for a band and a few other people working on the wiring. The living room has been completely gutted for this thing, and it's ridiculous how far out of his way he goes on his birthday. 

It's a star studded party, that's for sure. He's got his movie star buddies...Evans couldn't make it and Sting's in New York, but Gwyn's there. Kevin, Don, even some others like Rob Lowe and his early sitcom friends. A couple NA and AA people, a few cousins and family. Devin's there, but later, after taking Aero to her place for the night. He's even got an 80s cover band, local, that he likes to cover his favorites, but he swears next year he's going all out in the back yard for fifty.

I'm introduced to the people I don't know, feeling comfortable for once. Not only because they know I'm dating Robert, but because they know who I am music wise, which is fucking insane. I don't want to bore you with general meet and greets, though, partially because I'm overwhelmed with all of the introductions, and also partially because I've been nervously wringing my hands thinking about the second part of his gift once the party's over.

Gwyn takes note of that, handing me a drink when she comes back from the open bar halfway through the night. The music's loud, so she has to yell over it, but I can make it out. 

"Looks like you need one," she tells me as I accept.

I glance at Robert a few feet away, hopping around like an idiot in front of Jimmy's camera, probably for a live video of some sort, then nod back at her. "Thanks. Just a lot on my mind, and I just want today to be perfect for him."

"Well, considering he's been going around gushing about how in love with you he is," she comments with a smile, "I'd say you did good."

"He's what?" I ask, stunned. "Oh, no, Jimmy was behind this tonight, I had nothing to do with it..."

"He's been showing you off all night," she informs me. 

"He's something else..."

"So what'd you get him?" she nudges me, breaking my trance as I watch him, and I blush.

"I, uh..." I start, looking down at my heels. "It's sort of something for the after party."

"So sex," she laughs. "Birthday sex."

"Sort of," I laugh nervously. "I kinda want to surprise him with something we haven't done, something I haven't done with anyone, actually, so...just kinda nervous, you know?"

"Something new, huh?" she giggles playfully. 

"Yeah..." 

I can't help but smile as I daydream about his reaction when I tell him what it is, watching as he goes to cut his birthday cake for the video feed, but before I can say anything more, the band cuts down so we can sing him happy birthday. He takes a dramatic bow before cutting into his cake and stealing a piece with his hands; remind me to make him wash those later.

Later. Right. Part two of the gift. Ugh, what if I don't do it right? The idea is killing me, and I definitely need a shot, so I take one with Dev and Gwyn before being pulled into the dance area with Robert from behind as a slow song plays; a cover of Every Breath You Take, ironically.

I slam the shot glass down on the kitchen counter before letting him take my hand. My arms find his neck, and he's quick to pull me against him before placing a gentle kiss on my alcoholic lips.

"Let's just make this our song," he suggests, resting his forehead on mine as he sways us.

I let my hands toy with his hair at the base of his neck, trying to push that conversation with Gwyneth to the back of my mind for now. "We have a song, do we?"

"That's a thing couples do, right?" he teases. 

"It is," I agree. "Are you enjoying your party?"

"I am!" he confirms, then backs up to look me in the eye. "But you've been with the girls for a while, I miss you."

"I'm just letting you visit your friends," I promise. 

"Well, I did that, so now I want some time with my girlfriend..."

With that, I lean my head against his shoulders and kiss his neck lightly, content. "Happy birthday, Bobby..."

After the slow dance, he insists on water, so we take a short break, but it isn't long before we're back on the floor to an upbeat few songs. He's definitely not acting like he's forty nine, that's for sure, because he's got me out of breath and slightly sweaty, his hips pressing against mine as he holds me close. I can't even imagine what it looks like to the other guests, but I'm slightly tipsy so I don't really think about it. It reminds me of that time I was drunk after my concert, dancing to the rest of Sting's show. It's sexual, intimate, and...the perfect time for me to announce my plans for later.

"Tired yet?" I ask after he shares a long kiss with me, but he's quick to shake his head, his hands traveling down to my thigh in teasing.

"Not at all," he assures me with a kiss to my neck, his breath heavy in his ear. "Just thinking about how we couldn't dance like this last year."

"It would've been inappropriate," I agree. 

"It's still inappropriate now," he chuckles. "So...you said part one of my gift earlier. What's part two?"

I swallow my nerves, reminding myself this is Robert, this is who I'm comfortable with. He gave me his all and I accepted him, so I'm not gonna hold anything back.

"Part two..." I start, leaning up to speak into his ear, my breath grazing the delicate skin there. "Is in the bedroom, once this place clears out."

"Really?" he asks, though I can hear a crack in his voice. "Does it have to do with those photos from earlier?"

"Not exactly," I tell him, my hand running down his chest and unbuttoning the top button on his shirt seductively. "I was actually...going to tie you down so you can't move, then have my way with you and fuck you until you beg me to stop."

"You riding me is always a good gift," he confirms shallowly, not understanding.

"Oh I'm not gonna ride you, sweetie. I'm gonna give it to you this time," I explain with a tight squeeze to his ass. "I did some shopping and I think it's time to give you a turn."

His hands immediately grip into where they hold on my backside, and his hips jerk into mine. I can hear him whine into my ear, his breath short but hot.

"Now?" he asks urgently, nearly begging.

"We can't leave your guests," I laugh, but he's basically shaking at this point, a mess at the mention of sex...especially bottoming.

"I can do whatever I damn please, this is my birthday!" he growls. "Bedroom, now."

"But-" I protest, but he's firm with his decision. 

"Please," he whispers.

It sends a shiver down my spine hearing him beg like that. I had no idea how much he was craving it until recently, but... 

Needing another shot before I attempt this, I finally agree but head to the bar first and down it quickly. Then, I shake myself off and take a deep breath before trying to sneak away to meet him in the master bedroom for a little while, hoping no one notice's our absence.

Honestly? Never thought I'd be doing this for any man, let alone Robert freaking Downey Jr, but here we are. I just pray it won't be as weird as I'm anticipating.


	105. Chapter 105

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: SO, if you don't like the kinky weird shit, skip the first half. BUT this is probably the last like in detail part with THIS idea in it, so don't worry. But I don't think I honestly wrote it that long in this, so I dunno. Anyway...I saw photos of the full Rescue suit, so expect fewer of these constant updates because I am starting that project ASAP. Aside from that...I'll try to keep writing a little every day.

Truth be told? I can't sleep.

It's been three hundred and sixty four days since I OD'd. And it feels like a really long fucking time, but at the same time, I remember it pretty vividly. Including Robert coming to my rescue, though that parts a little fuzzy now. 

I'm not having nightmares about it or anything, but my brain's just over active, thinking about all the shit that's changed since then. Even worse than almost dying...rehab, and the nervousness I had coming back to set to see him. God, how did that even happen? Me, visiting set of a major movie, going to see the star that shouldn't even know my name. It's like there's that version of him, and then the version of him that I see now. The movie star, and the kinky little shit in my bed right now. Er...our bed. In our house, that used to be just his house... Weird, isn't it?

Anyway, despite how cute he looks lying on his stomach with his back bare and his arms under his pillow for support, I can't quite process everything. The memories, the way we awkwardly had to say goodbye to guests after disappearing for nearly an hour during his party... Honestly, I'm a little weirded out still about what went down, even if he enjoyed it... So I gather a hoodie and some pajama pants and head outside while the sun's still coming up, wanting some fresh air.

But sitting on the steps of the back porch overlooking the fields and the ocean doesn't help me clear my mind...it just helps me focus further on the things filling it.

First of all, last night... Last night was interesting. And not a bad interesting, I just feel...embarrassed? I don't know.

He didn't hesitate to rush me with an opened mouth kiss the second we had closed the bedroom door. The band who were still playing on the lower floor muffled out my surprised squeak when he pressed me up against the door frame, just like the first night back in Atlanta last year. And just like then, his hands were quickly undoing my clothing, stripping me to my underwear as my hands tangled in his hair. He hesitated after a long kiss, his eyes on my chest for a moment before snapping the clasp on my bra and letting it fall. I could tell he was thinking, probably about what I mentioned, and it's kind of sexy when he's vulnerable like that.

But he didn't falter. He went for my neck next as I worked his own articles of clothing to the floor, letting his lips nip and kiss against my neck while his hands worked my chest and my hip. His ragged breath in my ear made me forget my nerves...well, that and probably the couple shots I had thanks to Gwyn and Devin. In fact, the second he started talking with me is when I got into it, myself.

"Shopping, huh?" he growled into my ear as I struggled to nod before tugging off his boxers. 

"Happy birthday," I breathed back, which is when he finally lifted me from the wall to tug my own underwear off.

"You really want to-"

"You're gonna fuck me, and then I'm gonna fuck you," I answered curtly. "Deal?

"Deal."

He'd backed us up after that, letting me fall over him onto the king mattress, where I'd already set up the fancy new cuffs I got to keep his hands in place above his head. He wasn't surprised by that, used to it I guess after last time I had him held up like that, but once I leaned down to kiss his lip and search out his tongue, I could hear him jerk his arms up, desperate to touch me.

His eyes burned fire into me when I backed off, and by the time I leaned back to line him up with me and press him into me, he was well past ready.

"Jesus Christ," he cursed, and leaned his head back with closed eyes as his hands flexed against the bed frame. "I thought you weren't riding me?!"

"This and more, just waist," I promised before leaning down for another kiss as I started my movements over him. 

His hips bucked as he met me, thrusting evenly, until I felt the need to tease him further by pushing back up and leaning back, letting my hands do what he couldn't. One attached to my chest, squeezing myself lightly as the other traveled down between my legs, working myself while I sped up my pace.

"Fuck," he hissed, lifting his head again. "That's not fair!"

"What's not fair, Mr Downey?" I asked, meeting his eyes, which I swear turned black. 

"That's my job," he whined, and I'd never seen him so distraught. 

"Not tonight," I laughed smugly, right before I gasped and lead myself closer to edge. "Come on, old man, help a girl out," I demanded next.

I lifted up just a little bit, letting him work his hips up to thrust into me on his own, giving myself a small break while I focused on my hand's motions. He listened, jerking up hard with short breath for a few more minutes until I finally fell down over him, telling him to stop. He only groaned, apparently on edge himself, but not reaching it yet.

And that's when things got weird.

"Let me uh..." I mumbled, reaching over to the nightstand to retrieve a few things I had stashed there, including...

"You really, uh..." he swallowed, still held back against the bed, "you really did go shopping, huh?"

Taking a deep breath, I nodded and avoided all eye contact as I awkwardly held up the things I ordered.

"It's uh, warming, just cause...well in case..." I mumbled, mentioning the bottle of lube I last minute added, realizing he probably would need a little help.

"I appreciate that," he smirked, "but you aren't going to hurt me, this isn't my first rodeo."

"Well, it's mine, so..." I tossed back quickly, awkwardly picking up the contraption that I'd settled on...a strap on to appropriately, well...

My discomfort apparently alarmed him, though, because he let his arms go limp, watching me with clearer eyes. "Rach, are you sure-"

"Yeah," I hushed on a breath, clearing my mind. "Yeah, I'm sure. I just...this is going to look so fucking stupid."

"Well, it's a good thing it goes in me and not just on you for the aesthetics," he teased, attempting to lighten the mood.

It helped a little...well, long enough to help me buckle it on appropriately and drip some of the lubricant to it, stroking just like I would him.

"I am literally wearing a dick," I grumbled, which made him laugh his high pitched giggle.

"I'd rather you wear it than have one, so..."

Sighing, I'd moved back into place, dropping below his hips instead of over them, settling between his legs. But I didn't go for him right away; instead, I'd leaned down to lick up his length slowly, reminding him he was still close to releasing. And while he was distracted, the hand with the leftover lube carefully found it's way under him, between his ass cheeks and slowly, one digit at a time, into him to prep him.

I focus on his groans, because that's the only thing that kept me going. Knowing he'd liked it and it wasn't that weird if that was the case... Until I withdrew after a couple thrusts of my fingers and attempted to line up like he does with me. 

Let me tell you...that whole fucking thing was awkward as hell.

"Tell me if I hurt you," I requested awkwardly, I'm sure killing the mood, but as soon as I followed up and pressed into him, even just the slightest of inches, he let his jaw drop with a loud groan through clenched teeth. "Do you want me to stop? I can stop, I-"

"Fuck," he growled instead, "no. No, don't stop."

And at that moment, I realized how much he did like it. My mind briefly flashed to the stories he told me about jail, but that...the way he reacted was definitely not pain, so I pushed further, pressing in until the toy bottomed out.

And then I waited, letting him adjust, I guess, but he was quick to swivel his hips, silently begging me to do something. So I pushed my nerves down, realizing we were already into the thick of it now, and pulled back a little, holding onto his hips to steady myself as I focused on moving. It was definitely weird at first, but eventually, it was easy to pick up a rhythm, fueled by the sound of his groans that I've never heard from him while he topped me. They were heavy, borderline aggressive, and hot as hell.

"Touch me," he finally let slip after a minute or two, begging me to help him finish. 

So I let my non dominant arm go, shifting my hand over to his length, gripping him and then slowly tugging, pumping him at the same pace of my thrusts...until eventually he let out a silent curse and lifted his head, and not long after, he was spilling onto himself, shuddering under my grip.

And that...that is the first time I have ever, ever been a part of anything as kinky as that. Ever. And he noticed, after I pulled out and quickly discarded of the toys to the bathroom and uncuffed him. He noticed my blush, the lack of eye contact, and he was quick to pull me into a hug once we redressed to go back downstairs, whispering a thank you into my hair as he composed himself. That's the first time I've ever seen him so emotionally conflicted.

I think at some point I just held him, letting him hold onto me until he felt composed enough to let go, and that's when we acted normal again. I fell asleep with him cuddling me for a few hours, but then I ended up waking up a few hours before my alarms started going off, and now I'm out here moving on from those thoughts to the other ones about the memories.

I feel embarrassed about it still, honestly. Dirty, almost. That...what we did is definitely not part of a normal relationship, right? At least not one that I've been in. But hell, have any of mine been normal? Not really. The first few were childish ones, and then Charlie, who was never normal. And even now, even this good one, is not normal. But I guess that's to be expected from dating a secretly bisexual Hollywood legend, huh?

Somehow, that links me back to last year, though, and how it took him almost a year to tell me about him. I had no idea then, when he'd told me he was falling in love with me. He only told me now when he was scared of me leaving. That's all I do, huh? Scare him. Back when we had that fight when I learned he was bi, back when I broke his heart and left him for those couple months...back when he found me at the house, and all I could say was 'don't'. I asked him to let me go, yet we both need each other right now more than we know.

I can't help but feel that sting of sadness and panic creep in as I watch the horses trot around their pen, and I let my hand run through my hair. It's chilly out, but comforting. I'm just conflicted, overwhelmed, and him leaving in a couple days isn't really helping, either. I'm worried about Charlie, worried about the tour, worried about our future, worried about what he thinks of me now after last night... And yet through all of this, I'm focused on the one memory of this time last year, when I literally begged him to let me die. All of this shit I wouldn't have known if he had let me go...

"Hey," I hear somewhere behind me, raspy and tired, and I jump at the sound, not realizing he'd woken up in the last half hour or so that I've been hanging out outside. "Wanna come back to bed? It's cold, you're gonna get sick and I won't be here to help you out this time."

That does it. I cough and let my breath catch as a tear slips out and then lean over into my lap, my arms hugging my own chest for warmth. I feel sick to my stomach, both for thinking about these things and for worrying him, I'm sure.

"Whoa, hey," he follows up with, and soon after, he's sitting next to me on the stone steps and pulling me into a hug against his chest.

I can see his bare feet on the slate under us from under the layers of my hair in my face as I try to settle down. They're cute...and probably cold, like I'm used to. 

"Is this about last night?" he whispers, patting my hair with a hand. "I don't need you to do that, babe. If you're uncomfortable-."

"No," I whisper, though it's a white lie. 

"If it helps at all, you are the first person to ever do that willingly," he reminds me cautiously as I wipe my tears. "And so well. And I'm really so lucky I found you, Rach."

But that makes me feel like crying again, so I crumple into him, lying my head in his lap. He hesitates, then soothes me with his fingers in my hair.

"Talk to me, baby," he begs softly. "What's with all of these mood swings lately?"

"I don't know," I mutter, barely audible. "Probably just my week or something, I'm due for it..."

I can tell he doesn't buy it. "What else is going on?"

I can feel my heart beating fast, but I know he's only trying to help, and I wanna keep trying that trusting thing, so...

"I asked you to let me die," I whisper, though calming quickly as his fingers on my head send shivers down my spine. "You came back and tried to help me up and I asked you not to."

"Ah," he sighs, "that was-"

"A year ago," I confirm. "Yeah."

"Honey, you gotta stop thinking about that stuff," he begs kindly. "Okay, it's not gonna do you any good, and we both know you aren't the same girl that broke down that night."

"He's gonna get released and I'm not going to know what to do," I whisper back. 

"All right, sit up," he requests, pushing me up by my shoulders to look me in the eye. "You know who you are?" he asks next, analyzing me with narrowed eyes. "You're Rachel Thomas. Not the Rachel he knew, not the Rachel you knew. You're the recording artist, the musical composer, the headlining tour. You have fans, you have a support group everywhere you go. Who you are is totally different, and even if he wanted to bother you, he wouldn't even see that fragile girl in you anymore. And that's a damn good thing."

"He knows me too well."

"I know you too well," he corrects. "I know you're nervous before you go up on that stage, but once you hear the crowd singing with you, it fuels you with energy. I know you're the creative mastermind behind this whole tour, even though you haven't told me. Back up dancers, that move you did last night in our dance? All you."

"You forgot one," I hiccup, drying my eyes with my sleeve, so he raises an eyebrow and waits. "I'm inspired by my perfect boyfriend who's never given up on me...who's always trying to prove there's so much more to live for."

"Really?" he questions playfully. "Where is this guy? Do I need to fight him?"

I giggle at that, then brush my hair from my face and take a deep breath.

"There is so much more to live for," he continues, cupping my cheek with his hand. "You don't know it yet, but I know it, and I can't wait for you to find out."

I hate when he talks in riddles like this, I do. But the way he's looking at me, so soft and caring and delicate..it reminds me again of those two versions of him that I will forever see, only right now, he's not the movie star, he's the boyfriend.

"You are so pretty, you know that, right?" I sigh, eyes dancing across his own as I admire their multi tone browns.

"I prefer beautiful," he jokes.

That earns another laugh from me before I decide to lighten the mood, myself. "Is it weird that I fucked you in the ass last night?"

He coughs lightly, taken aback by that change of topic and bluntness, but he isn't shy about answering. "Uh, no, cause what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom. Right?"

"Right," I agree, feeling reassured that no one will ever know about the fine details of our sex life; it's private, it's something we'll both take to the grave, if we have to.

"Come on," he suggests after that, nodding to the field. "Wanna go see Fuzz?"

"I'm guessing you do."

The next few days are all spent outside, enjoying the yard as he says a short goodbye to his pets. He takes me to dinner the night before, to a place in Venice near his office, but then he's off to England to kick off his press tour. I won't bother you with another long goodbye, but I'm sad, and I don't want to let him go...physically, but eventually I have to let him get into the car that's going to take him to meet Gwyn at the jet.

He reminds me to meet with Jeanne's assistant for Paris, which I do about a week into his tour. I can't help but watch some of his videos while she does new measurements, noting some changes to my size, I guess. Hey, if that's what these rehearsals I have every morning are doing, I'll take it. 

The dress for Paris is simple...a black, short dress with one sleeve and a ruffled side, matching the plain suit he'll be wearing. The one for LA...more elegant. I know this is his time to shine, so I want to look the best I can for him. It's dark, again black with some silver accents. The top has off the shoulder sleeves, with a lace pattern, and the skirt is pleated out, flowing to the ground, full length. It's only two weeks till he'd back in LA, and this weekend I'll be in Paris.

Time is flying, and even though I miss him, he's face timed me with Gwyn a few times, and I've been keeping up with social media to tell him he looks amazing. The bed is empty at night, but I've had more time to spend with Devin, including a few sleep overs, and my mom's been on the other end of a late night phone call more than once...at least, late for her, being across the country. She begs me to stop home after we reminisce one night, to which I agree to try to sneak in a visit when I'm near the city for the tour.

It's a quiet few days after that, but I'm busy with stage rehearsals, using a mapped out layout of where we're going to be moving around each stadium so I know where to stand. Costumes come in shortly after the premiere, so we want everything choreographed in advanced. 

But that's when he calls next, face timing me from the hallway before the press tour. Only, when I answer, it isn't him, it's Gwyn, pressed lip and wide eyed as she looks on behind the camera.

"Hey," I breathe, toweling off some sweat and grabbing a water on break from practice, and she quickly grins down at the camera.

"Rachel, your boyfriend has gone insane," she announces, as if I didn't already know that.

"What'd he do this time?" I laugh, so she looks straight into the camera. 

"Trust me, you're not prepared for this."

That doesn't make me feel better, but finally, she switches the camera to reveal him hopping up and down in brown boots, and...

"Are you wearing lehderhosen?!" I gasp, not sure if I should laugh or scold him. "Robert, you're in Germany!"

"Exactly!" he celebrates, popping up closer to the camera after tossing in some wing chun hand movements, probably trying to hype himself up for the press to start. "Playing the part."

"That's offensive," I point out. "And you look ridiculous."

"I love it!" he pouts. "Don't make me tell Jeanne you dissed her look!"

I blink, staring and not sure what to say, so he goes on while I bite my tongue.

"Look, the belt jingles!"

Gwyn hands him the camera so he can basically show me front view of his crotch, to which I finally giggle and that's when he lifts it back up to his face.

"Your hair's nice," I comment. "I'll give you that. You look good."

"New cut," he grins, pretending to brush it back with sass. "I miss you."

"I'll see you this weekend," I laugh.

"Bob, come on!" I hear in the background, probably from Jimmy, so he sighs and frowns at the camera.

"All right, don't get your panties in a twist!" he snaps. "I gotta go, want me to call later?"

"I always do," I promise. "I should be done here soon anyway, and I think I'm staying in tonight."

"I'll call you before bed," he agrees.

Then, Gwyn's voice is heard on the other side of the camera. "Come on, Mr Stark," she teases, so he blows a kiss to me quickly.

"Love you," he sings. "See you in Paris!"

"Liebe dich auch!" I tease, and there's a smile before he fumbles to end the call.

"Coming, dear!" he sings briefly, probably to his on screen girlfriend, which makes me laugh.

Lord, is he quirky. But I've learned that to be clear the last few weeks, and I'm glad he is, because compared to last year, like I've been thinking about...at least now I'm laughing. And he's what makes me laugh.


	106. Chapter 106

Is it cool if I fast forward a little? I mean, I'd love to go on and on about the flights on the private jet and the arrivals and the red carpets, and trust me, each time it's still just as insane as the first one he took me too. But it's repetitive. It's drop off, autographs, photos, press, inside. Only difference is now I'm more confident next to him.

I'll sort of fill you in, though, because there's two of those premieres in the span of about a week and some change. One's calm and easy, the other...not so much.

Let's start with the flight over, though. I get to visit Paris. All I've ever been to is London, in England, and Canada. Paris is absolutely new and I know nothing about French, but he promises to have everything set up and waiting for us.

Devin accompanies me so I don't go alone, and we wind up flying first class commercial since the jet's being used by Robert and my aunt and uncle have theirs out on business. It's fine, I just duck my head as the passengers board and hope no one sees me. It's such a big flight that only a few of them wind up passing through our seats by the far window, anyway, which helps. I mean, I'm not as noticeable as Robert, but it's getting difficult to avoid cameras. I've done some snooping online while he's been gone and there's definitely been photos circulating of us together when we've gone out.

Anyway, at some point during the flight, Devin heads to the bathroom which wakes me up from my short nap. I stretch and pull out my phone to filter through some old photos of he and I, excited to see him after spending the last couple weeks apart. And that distracts me..until Devin returns, awake and wanting to chat.

"Good, you're up," she sighs, settling into her seat and reclining it. 

I hug the blanket over my legs higher up, chilly, but slowly waking up. "I guess so. How far are we?"

"Somewhere over the Atlantic," she shrugs. "Couple hours, I guess." Then she notes my phone, pointing over at it in my lap. "Miss him?"

"Always," I confirm, closing my eyes and leaning my head back with a slight smile. "You have the plans for the car, right?" 

"Jimmy sent it all over, yeah," she agrees.

"Jimmy, huh?" I finally muse, peeking an eye open with interest. "You two talk a lot now, huh?"

"That tends to happen when both of said people's best friends are screwing each other," she tosses back, that hint of Devin that I've always known poking through. "Remember we're both basically managing you."

"Well, you are my manager," I hum, ignoring the first part.

Her eyes drop to my phone again as I click it off and rest my own, shrugging the blanket up once more. "So what's going on in your love life, anyway?" 

"I dunno, love and stuff," I mumble, but I can hear her pout behind my closed eyes.

"Come on, we never have guy talk anymore!" she complains.

So I sigh, opening my eyes again just to find her browsing on her own phone, noting Robert's last press tour in Germany. 

"Why is he so weird?" she asks, half to herself, half to me, I guess. "He has to know that isn't attractive," she adds, commenting on the outfit he wore.

"He adored it," I chuckle. "Let the boy have his fun. If it isn't illegal he can do whatever he wants."

She audibly rolls her eyes, I swear. "And what's with him being so cuddly with Paltrow? It's a little over the top, don't you think?"

"They're friends," I defend. "He probably spends just as much time with her when they're filming as he does with me."

"You sure he's not like..." she mumbles under her breath, and I snort in response.

"Are you seriously asking me if he's cheating on me with Gwyn? Dev, come on. What the hell?"

"He's just always so...flirty. And happy. Normal people aren't like that."

"He isn't normal," I laugh. "That's what I love about him."

"But it isn't even just Gwyneth," she protests, though I'm half asleep and not paying attention. "You ever look at how he looks at Evans?"

"Also friends," I mumble. "Why are you suddenly so concerned about my boyfriend?"

"Just looking out for you," she defends instead. "You aren't concerned he'll get too close to one of his co stars?"

"Nope," I sigh.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he has a thing for Evans behind the scenes," she teases, knowing I'm not paying attention.

"He probably does," I answer without thinking, and that makes me jolt up as soon as the words slip out, realizing I may have let his secret slip by accident. "I, uh-"

"What in the hell does that mean?!" she asks, genuinely interested now that I've fed her some info.

But I turn over in my chair, facing the window, and ignore the question. "Wake me up when we land," I request, and that's that.

I don't even second guess us though, despite her questions. Old me may have, but the current me knows he's being faithful. I trust him. It's new and different, the whole trusting thing...but it's something good.

There's a car waiting, under my mom's name to help try and ward off paparazzi, since they know he's in town to promote tomorrow. It's weird, being in a country that I don't know the language of, but thankfully, we're sent with a security detail to the car that knows English. They take us directly to the venue he's currently at for his press day; I'm only in for a few days, but he'll be back in LA next week, so it'll be okay. Well worth the long ass flight, either way.

When we're dropped off, I utter a small "merci" to the driver, really the only French word I know, I'm pretty sure, and then we're lead to the side where we're handed badges to stay backstage. They've already started, given our flight was delayed on the way out of the states, but he knows I'm just going to meet him here. 

And from the sidelines, I watch as he sits behind a table with Gwyn, in gray and red, and she's answering in French, and he's...he's staring off into space, until she finishes answering and the translator is doing her job for the English press, and he taps her on the shoulder and asks for his phone. Funny, how she's his personal bag when he can't wear one of those ridiculous side bags that he usually wears, and he hers when she doesn't have pockets.

He scrolls through his phone with a frown, probably waiting for me to send him something, but I don't want to interrupt his interview. He sighs, then leans back in his chair again as he waits for the person asking the questions to go back into one with Gwyn. It's a quick answer, but then he's finally called back to answer.

"Let me just say, I feel really stupid right now," he leans down to say into the mic, and I can tell he's a little wound up from the time apart. 

He's got that crazy look in his eyes and I know he probably hasn't been able to talk to Dan, who's still in LA, and I haven't been around... So the next part doesn't really take me by surprise, but he does make me laugh.

"I would've spoken French, but I was raised by wolves," he states, dramatically motioning about while Gwyneth ducks her head in embarrassment. "She went to all these nice schools, and they spent all this goddamn money, and now she's all fancy and comes out and you just love her!"

But his eyes flicker around the room and eventually settle on me, and I can tell he's not going to let this go, but he's wrapping it up now knowing I'm watching him with a slight shake to my head in amusement.

"I am an animal. An ugly American," he finishes with an edge. "They don't speak French in jail!" 

With that, he slams down the mic and sits back in his chair, his eyes on me but his face steady and hard.

He's...sort of tame, but still full of jokes for the rest of the press, until he is escorted off and he finds his way directly over to me, planting a big kiss on my lips. My arms immediately lock around his neck, grinning against him as he sways me back and forth on purpose.

"Hello, gorgeous," he greets once he breaks away.

I can't help it; he looks too cute. The beard's not as full, but it's there, and his hair is so perfectly styled like Tony... And those glasses, ugh, those glasses... They're a dark frame like I love, sitting perfectly on the bridge of his nose.

"Hey yourself," I hum in greeting, cupping his cheek gently. "You clean up ice, don't you?"

"They made me look pretty, just like you like!"

"You're in a mood," I giggle. 

"I need some exercise," he teases, trying to be seductive, but then Gwyn's on her way over, so I detach to give her a hug.

"How was your flight?" she asks kindly.

"Good," I answer swiftly. "I slept most of it. Watched you guys from Germany and London the rest."

"Ah, so you saw her talk about my butt," he scolds with a playful glare, shooting it in Gwyn's direction.

"She's not wrong," I laugh. 

"Wanna touch it, too?" he grins.

I shake my head with laughter, cheeks feeling warm at that suggestion after all the shit we've been up to recently. "Maybe later, hot shot," I suggest, tweaking his hair because I'm absolutely in love with it.

"It's payback," she chuckles lightly. "He's been very quirky the past couple stops."

"Have not!" he gasps dramatically.

"You were eating my clothes!"

"It was pointy!" he argues immediately after her follow up. "It was right there, staring at me, and you two were chatting, and the I got hungry, and-"

"Do you hear yourself talk?" Gwyn teases, so that's when I cut in.

"He hears himself, don't worry. He just doesn't hear the words. Just likes the sound of his own voice."

"It's very smooth," he agrees.

That night we all go out to dinner, and then he takes me down to walk by the touristy stuff. The Eiffel tower, all that fun stuff. It's surreal to be here, in this chilly atmosphere, the couples wandering about, just like we are. Jimmy and Devin are following, chatting and letting us have our space. 

"Look at how beautiful everything here is," I sigh, taking in the lights. "I can't believe I'm in Paris."

"So between here and London-" he starts, but I'm a step ahead of him.

"London," I chuckle. "Because they speak English there."

"We could learn French," he points out.

"When do we have time to do that?" I remind him.

"True," he agrees softly. "So...red carpet tomorrow, then I'm off to Singapore, but I'll be home next weekend before the LA premiere," he goes on, his hands in his pockets.

I have my arm hooked in his instead, partly for comfort, partly for warmth. "Right. I have half the day on Monday, but we're headed back. So tomorrow morning's free!"

"Press in the AM, sweetheart," he sighs. "I wish I could. You don't know how much I've missed you."

"The house has been too quiet," I agree, grinning up at him as he scrunches his nose down at me and mimics that look.

"How are my girls doing?" he asks next, as though I'd forget about the alpacas and horses.

"Fine," I giggle. "You know, I can take care of animals, right?"

"But it's a lot of physical work when the guys don't stop by," he reminds me, mentioning the caretakers he has hired to come take care of them when we aren't home.

"They're okay," I reassure, slowing to a stop and ruffling his hair, which I know he hates. "So why are you all jittery? Something on your mind?"

"Well," he heaves, glancing over his shoulder at the others following slowly behind us and then at the lit up tower in the background. "Sort of."

"Did you talk to your therapist?" 

"No, but I will," he promises. "I uh, well I know what it is," he tells me, which makes me cock an eyebrow.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he repeats, coughing into his shoulder for a second. "So-"

But it's cut short, because Devin squeals when she notices something interesting across the park.

"Proposing in Paris, how romantic!" she sighs, watching a couple celebrate.

I blink, following her gaze to watch, but not before I notice Robert weirdly glare at her. The couple is cute, though. Cuddly. Hugging. 

I can't help but think to myself the rest of the trip what it'd be like if he would've surprised me like that, but I have to shake it. He's not going to. I told him I don't want to get married, so even if I've changed my mind...he's not going to. And after that he reserved himself again until we made it back to the hotel.

"You don't have some super secret property you'll spontaneously remind me of?" I joke when we're finally in solitude, and he laughs sleepily.

There's not much else for the night because he's too exhausted, but he's cuddly and close and it's nice to have warmth in my bed again for a change. Aero does the trick most of the time, but the way he keeps me close is always safe and familiar.

In the morning, he is up and showered before I want to wake up, jet lag weighing me down, so he tells me I can meet him at the venue he'll be dressing at later if I want, as long as I get there well enough before the premiere.

"I'm taking off," he whispers against my forehead after a small kiss there lifts me from the sleep I fell back into after he left bed. "I love you."

"Don't go," I whine, blindly reaching for his arm in my sleepy state. 

He chuckles lightly, and I adore the sound, so I peek an eye open as my lips tug up in a smile. "Left your pass on the dresser, make sure you grab it on your way out."

"You can't vouch for me?" I tease, then reach a hand up to run through his hair, then back down his neck so I can pull him down for another kiss. "Big star won't let his groupie in?"

"No, but if you kiss me like that again I might never make it there."

"Sounds like a plan," I grin in a haze. "You were sleepy last night."

"And you're sleepy now," he laughs. "Rest, babe. We'll have date night at the carpet later, and then we can come back here and come straight to bed. Deal?"

I sigh, nodding with closed eyes again. "Deal."

There's another kiss to my forehead and then I feel him rest his own against it, hand on my neck as he lingers for a moment. "I am so fucking in love with you, it hurts, you know."

I can only smile at that, half because I'm falling asleep again, and half because I don't l know what to say. I just enjoy the moment, because then he's gone, and next thing I know I'm lost in another nightmare...and bad.

_His hands are on me, stopping me as I pass on my way to my hotel room. I have no idea where I am, but it's a foreign city, and I know I'm on tour. I guess I'm on my way to bed, but he's not an expected guest, so when he shoves me into the room, I scream._

_It's him. I can tell. Just the grip on my wrists behind my back let me know that._

_He pushes me onto the bed, and then I'm being restrained by his weight. He tears my shirt, and I briefly think of Robert, but it's a dream, so I stupidly don't say anything. And then I see his face, vivid as ever, and angry._

_"Fucking the old guy, huh?" he growls into my ear when he leans down to force a kiss on my cheek. "I'm gone one year and you went running to him, just like I predicted."_

_I kick and shove, but nothing does the trick, until I feel my cheeks wet with tears._

_"Bobby!" I scream, louder than anything I've ever yelled; it hurts my throat. "Bobby, help!"_

_"He has no idea I'm here," Charlie tells me._

__And that's when I jolt awake, realizing my own pillow is wet with tears I thought I was only crying in my dream. I'm gasping for breath, but I'm getting better at these...I know it was a dream, and I know I'm in the hotel...

I reach out an arm behind me and feel for him, but he isn't there. No, Robert's gone, I remind myself. It's just you. He's waiting for you. Devin will be with you, security will escort you... Everything will be fine.

With that, I force myself awake and into a shower to clear my mind. All I gotta do is make it to the venue, watch him finish up on press, and then head to meet Jeanne and Davy to get ready for the carpet.

He's adorable at the press, just like yesterday. He's got a gray shirt with a hamster on it, which he is very clear about when I say hello before he's going to take stage. 

"Do you like it?" he asks when I approach and he points to the shirt as they're hooking him up with mics. "I asked them if they like it," he continues, pointing to the lades next to him wiring him up, "but they don't understand."

"Sweetie, no one understands you," I remind him.

"You do."

"Sometimes. Now is not one of those times," I giggle, then peck him a kiss hello. "I like this good mood of yours."

He smiles softly, then fixes his jacket when they're done. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, I got a couple more minutes," I promise, leaving out the part about the nightmare.

Then he's out on stage, discussing the movie, his chemistry with Gwyn, and even drops a comment about an Iron Baby with her. His eyes land on me, smiling softly, his smirk showing before the other half of his smile appears, and I blush, looking down as I try to bury those thoughts in the back of my mind for..maybe a few years later.

Shortly after his press, we're ushered to get ready for the premiere, which also goes swimmingly. I'd go into detail with it, but it's the same process I explained before. No hiccups, no issues, and the photos I see floating online afterwards are fucking adorable. He seriously looks the best I've ever seen him, which makes me happy.

We spend the night in bed, finally connecting with the stress of the tour stop over with for him. I can tell he needs this, because he's been so goofy and hyper, so I start on top, until he decides he needs more and rolls us over and nearly out of bed, too focused on continuing his thrusts to care that the sheets are the only thing keeping us on the mattress as they knot around our feet.

And then it's another long week of rehearsals as I avoid social media to keep from missing him, but eventually we're back in the same position, getting ready for the real premiere in LA from home.

He's got Davy working on his hair when Jeanne finally finishes up on dressing me and Devin walks me down the hall to the main space, dress poofed and hitting the ground perfectly now with my heels added. It's cute, watching him chat with Jimmy as he stands and gets his hair toyed with, but I'm more distracted by the suit he's in; it hugs his body perfectly, an those solid dark square frames that are my favorite are on his face displaying his brown eyes perfectly. He looks tired, only being back for a day to do press, but he perks up when he sees me, letting out a whistle under his breath as his eyes wander down and then back up.

"Better hope my date doesn't see you, miss," he tells me. "Might make her a little jealous."

"Ha, ha," I state sarcastically, running my hand up his suit jacket once I reach him. "You don't look half bad yourself."

"Remember when you used to think my compliments were antagonizing?" he grins back, taking a hand from one pocket to run it up my arm, eyes focused on where it travels.

"You only did it to get a rise out of me," I remind him.

"Partially," he agrees. "But I meant every one. You are a fucking goddess."

"And you're absolutely insane," I laugh.

Jimmy asks for a photo for Instagram, so once he's done being styled, we head outside and take one on the front porch before heading to the car. 

"We got this," he says, bumping me with his hip as we wait for the vehicle. 

I stumble a little but giggle, then straighten up and lift a hand in the air for a high five. "Best dressed?"

"Best everything," he corrects, meeting it, and then dropping it around to meet mine for a low five.

"Did I just see that?" Devin blinks from our side.

"They have a handshake," Jimmy confirms, just as unamused. "Great."

Finally, the car comes to take us, and Jimmy and Devin both are on their phones playing with live feeds and setting it up for the drop off point. It's a lengthy car ride, but they're focused on whatever they're doing, and Robert and I are immersed in a conversation about naming the horses, so it isn't long before we realize we're pulling up and ready to be let out. 

"Ready?" he asks as the security in the front jumps out to come around and open his door.

I nod, taking his hand as it opens and the cheers of his name greet us. He smirks back behind his clear glasses, hopping out and then reaching back to help me so I don't tumble out into a pile on the ground thanks to my long dress. Thankfully, this will be premiere number what, five or six? So I'm kind of used to this.

Jimmy and Devin follow, as well as the back end of our security detail, as he migrates toward the screaming fans to the side first. He keeps his hand locked with mine as we wander over, and then I see the familiar cocky grin grace his face as he lets go and opens his arms up in a wide eagle's stance. He takes to the spotlight well, I've always known that, but it's still funny to see when he's so soft with me when we're alone. Regardless, it's part of why I fell in love with him, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Pen?" he questions, holding a hand out to Jimmy, who fumbles for it, but eventually takes the cap off and hands it over.

"You're not signing?" Devin asks as she holds her phone, documenting the whole thing on my Facebook live.

I shake my head casually. "His movie, they don't want me," I joke. "Plus, he's got this down pat..."

She and I both laugh watching him dance around through the sea of posters and Iron Man memorabilia being tossed over the banister. He stretches his arms every now and then, pulling the sleeves of the suit jacket back up his arms to have an easier time signing, and then proceeds to continue down the line.

"Your boyfriend's a dork," she comments, receiving a bunch of laughing emojis on the live when she says this.

I sigh, watching him turn for a quick photo in front of the fans, nearly kneeling on the ground with his arms out.

"Yeah, but he's my dork..." I mutter, and then the hearts fly in on her feed.

Robert's gone through pretty quickly though, almost to the end, and that's when I see him. Him. Him him. The one I didn't know was out, the one I have the order against, the one who almost stopped Robert and I from happening to begin with. Charlie.


	107. Chapter 107

I freeze, not moving other than putting my arm on Devin's, clutching tightly. She doesn't say anything until she ends the live, turning to me with concern; she knows something's up that shouldn't be broadcast.

"At the end," I whisper, my eyes on his as they stare back. "Devin, at the end!"

She looks where I'm looking, realization flooding over her and in an instant, she's in security's ear, informing them of the situation. She's less the friend and more the manager right now, which is what I need. I can't move, I can only watch as he smirks at me, knowing he's gotten into my head.

They let him out, this is actually happening. All of the fucking nightmares and worries, and... I try to focus on my breathing, not sure what to do from here. I'm not panicking, but I'm not completely put together, either. Good sign, I guess?

Carefully, one of the security guards speaks into Robert's ear as he signs, and he makes it a few more down before smiling and waving at the crowd. I can see security pushing through the back way, on their way to escort him out, but Robert isn't taking any chances. He turns and heads back to me, hand on my lower back as he kisses my forehead and whispers to me so no one else hears.

"Don't react. Act normal, smile. Okay?"

I fake a smile at him and nod, then let him lead me back toward the carpet, skipping the interview outside as Devin and Jimmy hurry to follow behind us. The last I catch of Charlie are his fueled eyes watching as Robert touches me, even if it's the simplest of touches. Either way, his touch is what keeps me stable as we enter the tented pathway to the professional photographers, standing in line for couples photos.

He leans down again, now taking my hand in his and squeezing. "You're fine, I promise. Just try to have fun, please. I'm here, security is here...I'll keep you safe."

I squeeze back, feeling a little more calmed by his words. I still panic slightly but we're summoned further up the carpet, Robert stealing the spotlight again as he pulls me along with him, hand still in mine and stands up tall and closes his eyes, giving them a wide grin and allowing them to take all the photos they want. I can't help but chuckle at him, loosening up when he peeks an eye open at me. Then, he slips his hand from mine and wraps it around my waist again, pulling me into his chest. I turn to my good side, giving them a normal couples pose, but then he quickly kisses my cheek and moves his arms around me in a big embrace. I grab at his wrists in front of me, giggling as he gets extra cutesy for the photographers.

"Love you," he adds after giving my cheek another light kiss. "Let's go inside?"

"But your interviews," I protest, following him as we move along, and he shrugs it off.

"We don't have to."

"But you're the star," I argue. "I'll be fine, I'll...it'll be okay."

He frowns, but nods, turning toward Devin and Jim, with security tailing close by. "Wanna hang out with her, I'll skip over here and then we'll work our way inside?"

Devin agrees, but Jimmy sides Robert, back to doing a live video feed to try and make it like everything's back to normal in case anyone else saw. He's joining Gwyn and Don for one, and I assume they'll get photos of the three of them against the backdrop as well before he comes back. 

Devin stands off to the side with me, trying not to look awkward or give anything away. The last thing I want right now is an interview or questions about just what exactly happened outside.

"I've got guards being alerted," she tells me as we wait for Robert to wrap up his couple interviews. "We'll post security at the house, just in case, and we'll have someone on call for worst case scenarios."

I nod, clutching at my chest slightly as I try to steady my breathing.

"I had no idea," she goes on, trying to remain calm in front of the public. "Robert asked me to look into it but they hadn't told me anything. No one knew, Rach."

"They probably let him out on good behavior," I breathe quietly, staring at the floor right now. "It's been a year, Dev, he got parole, he-"

"And that means he can't come near you," she reminds me, cutting me of because she knows I'm about to go on a breathless rant that won't help matters even in the slightest. "You have a restraining order, you have a reason for him to be arrested if you choose to call the cops."

"His eyes," I mumble, shaking my head. "He's still angry about us, about-"

"He has nothing to do with you and Robert," she reassures me, hand reaching out to touch my arm kindly. "Your relationship is what a relationship should be. You know, minus all this crazy fame and shit, but... Your relationship with him was never healthy. Don't let him tell you otherwise."

I blink, frustrated, but stay silent until Bobby and Jimmy come back, Robert instantly placing both hands on my arms and smiling softly down at me. His hairs blowing slightly in the breeze, the lights reflecting off of his glasses as the cameras flash.

"Are you doing okay?" he asks quietly, eyes dancing across my face as I stare up at him for comfort.

"I'm fine. I knew it was coming, but I didn't expect-" I start.

He's quick to cut me off, though. "He shouldn't have come here. We'll have security on it. Double up for a while," he decides, motioning toward Jimmy and the couple guys flanking us with one hand before it returns to me. "I'm here."

"I know," I nod with a smile. "I'm a little shocked, but...I knew it was going to happen. I told you a couple weeks ago, I-"

"You're with me, Rachel," he states simply.

"He's not happy about it."

"It isn't his concern."

I press my lips together in silence, accepting it, but I don't know what else to say so I take a breath, calming myself. Robert's here. Robert's mine. We have friends here. We have security. 

"Come here," he requests delicately, hand moving to my neck as he tilts my head up so he can lightly kiss my lips. When he retreats, he whispers a simple, "I love you", and that earns a smile from me.

"Let's just have the night," I decide. "We can talk tonight, okay? I can't...I can't do this in front of everyone."

"Promise you'll be okay till then?" he asks, lips twitching in doubt.

But I confirm, so he sucks in a big breath before nodding toward the entrance, taking my hand in his and leading me in with the other guests.

There's a speech of his...as there usually is. They're on stage with Jon and Kevin and I've got Devin in the seat next to me with Jimmy on the other side of Robert's. He left his jacket with me, keeping me warm in the air conditioned building. But the entire time he's talking, my hands are fidgeting self consciously in my lap, and the don't stop through the movie, either. I'm a little shaken up still, and I'm also worrying too much about the idea of this ruining Robert's premiere, in his mind. He's too concerned about me. I love him for it, and I would be a mess without him, especially after ho close we've been since the New Year, but this shouldn't come with my baggage. He should enjoy his day, not have me in the back of his mind.

I try to focus on the memories of filming this, but at some point, I excuse myself. We're about half way through the movie, I supposed, or at least it seems that way based on the cuts I saw before the final copy.

"What's up?" he whispers, catching my hand as I crouch down to slip out without worrying anyone else.

"Bathroom," I say with a smile. "I'll be okay for a few minutes..I'll be back."

He squeezes it before he lets me go, and then I'm letting my heels click into the hall. I spend a decent amount of time in the stall, steadying my breathing and reminding myself everything is going to be fine. Compose myself, until I feel like talking later. But on the way back I decide I need air, so I slip out the back exit, knowing it's blocked off from fans,from the road closer, and just in case, still safe with security lining the fences that have been set up well within those barricades.

My hands still shake as I lean against the wall of the theater, dipping them into his jacket pocket. I fumble to open the box that lies in there, slipping a cigarette from it, and then fish for the light in his other side. He's cut back, but I know he still carries them...and right now, I need one. I need something. I can't have drugs, I can't have alcohol right now...they'd make me stupid, even if they let me have them. So I just need one small puff to mellow myself out, and then I'll drop it and hopefully relax a little bit.

I bite the end of the cigarette, then take the light, wincing as I burn the end of my thumb from missing the starter. Then I hold it to the end, cupping it from the breeze as I suck in some air and singe the end.

But as soon as I pocket the lighter again and take the cigarette in between my fingers so I can exhale, I'm interrupted.

"Tsk tsk," I hear Robert call as the hinges of the door behind me squeaks, alerting both the security details near me and myself of his presence. "And you told me to quit..."

"I don't smoke," I mutter, crossing my arm over my top; it's still chilly, but not too bad.

"Says the one who stole my cigarettes," he banters, leaning against the wall next to me.

"The ones you promised to throw away," I argue, but call truce by handing it to him so he can take a drag. "Just needed a breather." I sigh, turning toward him as he puts it out on the ground. "Sorry I missed the end of the movie."

"Babe, we've seen it a hundred times already. It's fine."

"Yeah but-"

"The handsome superhero saves the day by being more brave than the less handsome superheros," he grins with a cocky attitude.

"So they let Cap have a part in this one?" I tease, making him grimace while I chuckle and ease up, moving forward to wrap my arms around his waist by slipping them between his sides and his hands that are now in his pockets. "You know I'm kidding."

"I'm hurt," he whines, turning is head away.

I watch the street lights shine against his tinted frames, admiring the way his nose curves and his hair spikes in just the right shape. I guess I'll never get over how God damned good he looks. Eventually, I snap out of my thoughts and see him glance from the side of his glasses at me, smirking when he notices me staring.

"Take a picture, sweetheart," he grins and I roll my eyes.

"We have plenty of those from earlier," I assure him.

Then, I sigh and let myself hold him tighter, leaning in to lay my head on his chest in a hug. The sudden urge to just be close to him overwhelms me and I just need to feel him. His hands lift from his pockets, softly landing on my arms as he looks down at me.

"What's up?"

I breathe deeply, feeling calmer than usual. Maybe it's him, maybe it's the cigarette, I don't know.

"Nothing," I admit. "I just really appreciate you."

He's quiet for a minute, lifting his head again. His jaw is tight, and I can tell he's thinking. But his heart beat under my ear is calming me, so I don't dare interrupt this silence until he decides to speak again.

"You know, when I was a kid, there was this girl in school. Her parents were models or baseball players or something, I don't know," he rushes to fill in. "Anyway, before I got heavy into my own shit, she lost her brother to drugs. And I, uh...I bought her a fish, stupidly thinking that would make everything okay, you know."

"A fish?" I laugh, lifting my head to look at him like he's nuts. "How old were you?!"

"Like six or seven," he smirks down at me again. "I just wanted to help her feel better, but I didn't realize the damn thing needed air, so it wound up dying half way through the school day in the bag, made her more upset than before I brought it in. But," he huffs in a small chuckle, "when the car came to take me home, she stopped me and thanked me, and said she appreciated me trying to get her through the rough time...in more child terms, of course, but..."

This is exactly what I mean by softie. He's so sincere and kind and even though he has ridiculous ideas, he means well. And I know that now first hand, even so many years later than this story.

"And the fans say they appreciate me, when I do favors for people, they say they appreciate them. But you...you are different, and even though I didn't give you a fish-"

"I do appreciate you," I finish for him, smiling up at his pretty face. "For more than you'll ever know."

He returns the smile, nodding after adverting his eyes for a moment. But then they're back on me, and he's lifting a hand to my cheek with a soft sigh. "You are my life now, Rach. And I won't let anything else bad happen to you."

And I want to answer him, but he's furrowing his brow at something toward the barrier, a guard waving in someone behind him. Someone I don't want to see, when I realize who it is.

"Like this," Bobby mumbles, pushing himself in front of me before I can react. "This is one of those things."

"Mr Downey, Miss Thomas," the guy starts, scratching his head. "I know you said no guests, and I can take him out, but he was persistent, said you knew him..."

He holds up a photo Charlie must have printed of the two of us when we first started dating...one I'm happy in. I guess he brought it, because over Robert's shoulder, I see the guard step to the side to reveal my night mare himself.

"He can't be here," Robert growls immediately. "Rach, go back inside."

Downey taps me on my hand briefly, gesturing for me to head in. But my eyes snap on his ice blue ones, and I want to duck and hide. I want to run back inside. Funny thing, though...I don't.

"Just let me talk to her," I hear his voice request. "Five minutes."

I swallow awkwardly, looking at the photo in the guards hand as I try to process. I think I'm breathing. I know I feel faint. But I'm not like..handling the information, so I'm not scared or angry or upset. I'm just...neutral.

"What part of fucking stay a thousand feet from her don't you get?" Robert snaps, shoulders squared. "Get the hell out of here or I'm calling the real cops."

"Hey!" the security detail complains, but he's interrupted by Charlie pressing further, stepping up to Robert's personal space.

"Rach, talk to me," he asks me instead, ignoring Robert telling him no.

And I should say no, right? I should turn. But part of me needs to do this. Robert's here, for help. But I need to put these demons behind me before it haunts me forever. So I can move on, so I can have a life with Robert without guilt, without nightmares. If I want to marry him someday...I can't keep using Charlie as an excuse for, well, literally anything.

"You have two minutes," I decide, speaking up for myself after clearing my throat, but Robert's quickly talking over me.

"Rachel, that's not a good idea, just-"

"Bobby," I scold, stepping around him and lifting a hand. "Just two minutes. You're here, security's here..."

His eyes narrow, their dark chocolate color silently judging the situation, but eventually he stands down, sucking in a big breath.

So I cross my arms defensively, stepping up, but refusing to meet his chilling face. I can't look at him yet, the photo was enough. His voice is enough.

"Well?" I demand, staring at the lace on my dress.

"You look good," he starts with, that slickness to his voice...surprisingly smooth.

"One minute and fifty seconds," I tell him, suggesting he's wasting his time.

He sighs, then I see a blur as he lifts his hand to run it through his blond hair, I guess. "So you, uh...you and Downey, huh?"

I can't justify that with a response, so I take a breath and shake my head, looking down. "This was a mistake."

"I'm just asking, I didn't know if it was true, or-" he starts, and that's when I finally look at him.

I snap my head up, my heart thumping loudly in my ears when I see those horribly cold eyes for the first time since the trial. He doesn't look much different, just...thinner.

"Guess I'm kinda your type now, right? Ex convict, and whatever..." he mumbles, I guess trying to joke, but it isn't funny. "So are you uh, I mean I don't see a ring, but-"

"Go home, Charlie," I decide, disgusted. 

"Rach-" he tries, and that's when I explode.

"No. You don't get to come here and do this and remind me of all the shit I tried to put behind me for the past three years!" I hiss, angry and fueled.

"I know," he answers, blinking calmly, which only pisses me off further. "That's not why I'm here."

"I could have you arrested. Right now, for showing up here," I remind him.

The guard lifts his hands, ready to go on my call, but I shake my head, telling him it's okay.

"I know," Charlie repeats, frustrated as he clenches his teeth. "Just listen to me for a second, okay?"

"Why should I?" I bite.

He tosses his hands up, and I flinch slightly, and I can feel Robert's hands on my back and shoulder, steadying me. But they're just in his own ignorance, not coming at me.

"Honey, I think-" Robert starts in my ear, but I hush him by squeezing his arm behind me.

Charlie steps back, surrendering by lowering them again and chilling out. "I just wanted to apologize."

"You could've written a note," I state plainly.

He has an answer ready to go, though. "You're a huge star now, Rachel," he reminds me, "this was my best chance. I knew even if you got the letter, you'd throw it away. So I came here when I realized you'd be with him, and-"

"Yeah, and I am what I am because of Bobby!" I defend my boyfriend. "Because he believed in me. Because he liberated me from you...from the drugs, from the constant feeling of self doubt and shame and..." I heave out a gasp of air, tugging my hair out of it's tie for the first time since Davy put it up. "And yes, I know it's fucking insane that he's...he's him, and..." Then a groan. "You know, the last day you fucking touched me I tried to kill myself? I tried to over dose, to stop the damn pain of all the shit you put me through. But he saved me. He told me to hang on, and now I'm clean, now I have a career because he didn't try to control my work..."

"Rachel, I know!" he yells at me, making me shiver, but I shut up because it isn't angry, it's...he's sad. "I fucked up. I loved you, but I had issues and I fucked up."

"You controlled me," I whisper, breathing heavy because now I'm terrified, but I also feel...freedom creeping in. "You beat me, you raped me. Over and over, and that isn't fucking love, that's... I could've brought that up, you know, and I didn't. I didn't because I was afraid and I was ashamed, and you've haunted me every fucking second of this past year, even when they told me I won the day they locked you up!"

He looks down once I let loose on him, shuffling his feet. It's a vulnerability I haven't seen in a really, really long time, so I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.

"I just wanted to say sorry," he answers steadily after a few moments of car horns and the breeze. "And maybe not now, but if you can ever forgive me..."

"I..." I sigh, "No."

"No?"

"Forgiving you would mean it was okay. That I'm okay with what you did, and I'm not. So...so I appreciate your apology," I force, "but I will never forgive that."

"Rach-" he begs, sights back on me for a reaction, but I shake my head and lower my eyes. 

"Next time I see or hear from you, I'm telling your parole officer. So I suggest you stay the hell away from me."

"Rachel-" he repeats, but then I turn away, not wanting to hear it.

I listen to Robert asking the guard to escort him out after I fall into his chest, hiding in something comfortable and familiar. His scent helps, grounding me with his warm touch, and I feel a huge weight lifted off my shoulders for as more shaken up I now am.

He kisses my head strongly, whispering hushes into my hair. "I'm proud of you."

"I had to do it," I whisper back. "For me."

"I know," he agrees. "Come on, let's go inside, we'll get a car home, we'll-"

"No, we can go to the party," I protest. "I'm okay. Really."

"You're shaking," he points out when I push off of him with a small smile.

"Adrenaline," I admit. "Promise."

He nods, accepting it because he knows I'm just going to protest, then opens the door to go back inside. "If you say so... Love you, you know."

"I know."

He doesn't comment on all the things I said about him, just holds the door open. But before we can duck in, Charlie's yelling something his way, obtaining his attention.

"Downey!" I hear, and we both still.

Robert cracks his jaw, inhaling sharply before rolling his eyes and turning over his shoulder with a silent stare. I've seen him mad, but silent mad is...a whole new level of scary and intimidating.

"Just...take care of her," Charlie begs.

But Robert doesn't respond. Instead, he swallows his anger and turns back with a chilled stare, resetting his soft mood for me before nodding inside.

"Come on," he requests gently, so I do so, knowing once I step back in there, I can finally start enjoying life with him...for real this time.


	108. Chapter 108

I try not to let the encounter with Charlie weigh me down. Truthfully? I don't want to let it, because it's almost May, and I leave in about two weeks, and then I'm gone for three months. Three months without him, and even though everything seems to be perfect as of...what, a half hour ago? I can't completely settle.

As we rush to the venue for the after party, Devin's got me going over schedules for the next few weeks. She's listing stuff off, looking at her phone, while I try to listen and walk ahead of Robert and Jimmy. They've been talking with a hush, so I'm certain he's telling him what happened earlier. I haven't broken the news to Devin yet...I'm more focused on the task at hand; my little pet project - Robert meeting some of his fans.

We head into one ball room, double doors opening as she continues her rant.

"So I need you to sign off on the team for intermission, and the local artists who are opening are ending their contests next weekend so that needs judged," she tells me. "I have the notices for Aero into all of the venues, so if he's coming-"

"He can stay with Bobby," I decide. "Too much running around, and he'll be in Atlanta."

"Right," she comments, typing away into her notes.

But I lift my shoulders and detach myself from that conversation long enough to look at the small group of people hanging out in the room, mingling with each other and the snacks let on the table in the back.

"Hi, guys," I grin, putting on a happy face as I interrupt and catch their attention. "How's it going? Did you like the movie?"

Robert wasn't entirely in on the details, but there was a small group who were given tickets to the premiere, and then told to meet at the venue for their own after party. Not the star studded one we'll be headed to in a little while, but the one we set up for them to meet briefly.

Their attention quickly snaps to me, as the room quiets and I wait by the door, keeping Robert out in the hall with Jimmy and the security detail. There's a couple girls who lift their hands to their mouths, which makes me laugh, because I still don't believe that I should have this effect on people. But it's understandable, knowing I'm the prelude to Robert.

"So, unfortunately our night's still really packed but I wanted to stop in and say hello," I start, and they start to look dejected which makes me smirk. "But," I continue, "if it's okay with you guys, I wanted to bring in someone else to say hello, too."

With that I knock on the door behind me, giving him signal to traipse in, which he does while puling his suit jacket that he's put back on closed in front of him, his chin held high with that 'I'm the best' attitude he always has for press. 

The group of ten or twenty inside squeal in excitement, and I stand back with the other two as I watch him take the stage, greeting them with a wide grin as he chews the gum he's popped into his mouth after sharing that cigarette earlier. 

"Hi," he muses, cocky as ever. "Were you waiting for me?"

I can't help but smile as I watch him go around and talk to each person, hugging them and agreeing to photos, which is exactly what I wanted. 

About forty five minutes later, we're on our way to another section of the venue for the real after party, showing up fashionably late, I guess. That's okay, because I'm just glad we have so much going on for a distraction right now. I'm quick to take to the bar, needing some sort of relief, and that's when I start dishing out everything that happened to Devin.

While Robert mingles, I down a couple shots of whiskey, needing something hard. He's left the security with me, just in case, but I don't feel threatened after that encounter. That's a step in the right direction for sure, even if it's still haunting me a little after seeing him again. 

I explain to her all the same, talking over the music as I start to get a little past tipsy; I guess I lied, but I definitely start to thin out the alcohol, don't worry. 

"And I told him not to come back or I'd fucking lock his ass back up again," I rant, then down another and slap the small shot glass down on the bar, leaning in to talk to her with wild eyes. "And you know what? I feel fucking beautiful!" 

"I can't believe he's just walking the street again after all of that," she adds, tossing back one of her own. "Did you tell Robert?"

"Oh, Bobby 's' there," I slur out, laughing stupidly. "He was all pouty and cute. He's sexy when he's angry."

"Not angry at you, right?" she asks, hopeful, so I rush to confirm.

"I told him Boberto's the reason I'm happy, and he is. Charlie didn't like it."

"Boberto?"

"I's a new name, I like it," I giggle, then turn and seek out Robert and Jimmy, who are on their way back to us. "And him, I like him, too," I grin. "He's adorable isn't he?"

"I'm what?" I hear, his deep voice chuckling.

His hands are in his pockets as he comes to stand next to me with a pressed lip smile, hot as hell to my drunken ass with those bold glasses of his.

"You are the prettiest human I have ever laid eyes on," I hiccup, and he smirks with a raised eyebrow. "You look gorgeous tonight."

"It took you a year and a half to realize that, huh?" he asks.

"No," I frown, playing with his tie under his jacket. "You've always been sexy to me. Just never imagined I'd get to tell you."

Then I reach up and touch his chin between my fingers and giggle again, which makes him laugh and scrunch up his nose, being cute as ever.

"Or touch you," I add.

"Guess what?" he probes. "You get to touch this for the rest of your life if you want."

"I do?" I ask, laughing, but then I stumble so he catches my balance and glances at Jimmy.

"Should we call it a night?"

"She's been celebrating," Devin informs him. "Guess she gave it to him early, huh?"

Robert smiles, brushing hair behind my ear admiringly. "She did. Surprised the fuck out of me. I'm proud of her."

"I'll call the car," Jim alerts him next.

But stupid me just clings to him, pulling him down to place a big kiss on his lips. I feel him smirk, but he pushes me back to kiss my cheek and whisper into my ear instead.

"Let's save this for home, hmm?" he suggests.

But by the time I'm home I'm tired and sleepy from the drinks. I fell asleep for a bit, leaning against his shoulder in the car while he answers some messages on his phone, I suppose. I can hear the light laughter from whatever Devin and Jimmy are talking about, but it's faint until they drop us off at the house. That's also when I find out not only had I fallen asleep, but Robert had as well, holding onto my hand on my lap - Devin had snatched a photo and shared it with me before we said goodnight.

But he's back to being wide awake the second we're inside, though he does sleepily walk me down the hall to the bedroom with a yawn at first.

When he starts to disrobe and get his suit off, I interrupt, removing his glasses and placing them on my own face while I bite my lip and try to look cute. I'm sure I'm a little tipsy still, but I'm better than I was and right now, he looks incredibly gorgeous...

But the glasses are a bad idea - I've worn his sunglasses before, but not his prescription ones, so I quickly squint my eyes shut and he chuckles, removing them and setting them down on the dresser to my side.

"Apparently we're not the same prescription," he states gently. 

I continue unbuttoning his dress shirt for him after he does so - not needy, just casually. "I think we're both near sighted," I inform him. "But yours don't seem strong enough, actually."

"I can see without them," he agrees. "How you do contacts, I will never know."

"The two week ones work wonders. Don't have to fuss with em. I've thought about laser surgery, but-"

"You could afford it now," he points out, reaching for the zipper on my dress. "But I don't mind you in your glasses more often, either. You hardly ever wear them."

"Because I look silly in them," I answer quickly, but then push a finger on his nose. "Not cute like you."

I love the way his nose scrunches up at that, and the grin that follows, revealing his white teeth behind that perfectly groomed facial hair of his. My hand wanders into it, feeling it's softness under my fingertips, and he smirks, watching me with lazy eyes. But then my own flicker up from my hand to his, mirroring the care he holds in them, so I pull him in for a kiss which doesn't end until I'm on top of him in bed under the sheets with his hands on my hips, helping me keep my balance. He watches hungrily as I ride him, happy to sit back and let me do the work.

There's a little bit of cuddling before I fall asleep, my head lying on his chest as he plays with my hair over my shoulder, arm around me. It's comfortable and content and there's much on my mind, that he speaks to, but even so, I feel okay. I don't feel threatened for the first time in several years.

"I'll keep you safe," he whispers into my hair, and I take a deep breath as a response, relieving myself of the stress I've held for too long.

He's out for a wing chun lesson in the morning, leaving me to have coffee by myself. I take the last of the pot he's left for me, then snoop around in his office, realizing I am going to miss this place I now call home over the next two and a half months. Our one year anniversary is in two days, and then a week later I'm off to San Francisco for stage practice for the tour. The next two weeks are going to be busy as hell for me, so this is probably my last real day off...

I wind up grabbing the newest copies of the scripts for his movies; The Judge, he's now named it, and the Avengers, and take them with my coffee to the kitchen table, deciding to read it to keep up with what he's working on. That keeps me entertaining until about noon, when Devin decides to show up and go over some stuff for tour. She brings lunch, so that's fine by me.

She doesn't go over work right away. Instead, she unpacks the food containers and sits down with me at the table, offering me one that I take blindly, trying to finish up the page I'm on.

"What?" Devin asks, tilting her head when I grimace at one line.

 

"This scene. This whole concept," I sigh, tossing the script down for a break.

She hasn't read it, so I don't expect her to know what I'm talking about. And she doesn't, so she eyes me awkwardly, waiting for me to explain.

"He's trying to tell his kid what happens after he divorces his wife," I tell her, moving to dish out some food onto a plate for myself. "I guess I get it, he probably pulled from his own experiences or whatever, his parents, I don't know. But the character has a whole scene with his kid talking about it."

"And..." she pushes, not following. "Is it not written well?"

"It's written very well," I assure her. "That's the problem."

"Or maybe it hits a little close to home," she pries, and I sit back in my chair, folding my arms over my chest.

She's not wrong. I've always battled myself inside over Robert and marriage and...and it always comes down to nerves because all I've known is people splitting up. And maybe I'm a little emotional because I'm so nervous about this tour, maybe it's the fact that I'm convinced he isn't going to propose anymore, anyway...but I snap.

"It's not just my parents, it's...no one stays married anymore, so what's the point?"

"Uh..." she tries, "my parents are still married?"

"Most don't," I argue. "Why put your kid through that? Why make a promise you can't keep and hurt the family you shouldn't have if you don't want to stay together..."

"That's...dark..."

I push myself up from the seat. "It's a good scene, he's not wrong. It just backs up why I never want to get married..." But before I can hush myself, the garage door closes and I quickly follow up with "Bobby, hi...I didn't hear you come in."

"I just got home..." he states slowly, eyeing the script on the table.

He doesn't comment on what I said, though he does look dejected. Instead, he drops his bag at the door and grabs a plate to join in, sitting next to me.

"Lunch without me?"

"She just stopped by," I tell him with a smile, but then he leans over to give me a kiss and I hum in teasing at how sweaty he is. "You need a shower."

"Honey, I'm a mad, I sweat," he tosses back, but I know he's taking it as a joke as intended. "How was your morning? No more nightmares last night, huh?"

"Not a one, thank God... And pretty low key," I tell him simply, taking a bite. "Read a couple of your scripts. Trying to keep up before I leave."

"Yeah?" he questions, dishing out food of his own. "Did you read the Avengers one? We have first round table reads this week, thought you might want to come with."

"I'll stop by after rehearsals," I agree. "What day?"

"Saturday," he tells me, and I blink, realizing that's our..one year anniversary.

Has he forgotten?

But he is quick to catch my silence, chuckling to himself. "Don't worry, it's in the morning. I have the night planned for just you and I."

"Right..." I mumble. "Just, nothing big! Okay? You always go all out and then I have no idea what to get you..."

"No gifts, got it," he agrees easily.

"I just want to spend time with you."

"Honey, that sounds perfect."

I smile awkwardly down at my plate, blushing at how silly I am for thinking he had canceled whatever he said he had planned. But then he's onto something else, back to the main point of the conversation.

"You'll love the cast," he smiles over at me, and then proceeds to fill me in on who's been cast for this one before Devin dives into her work stuff.

On Saturday, I'm woken up to an empty bed, but it's soon corrected when a tired Robert enters the bedroom, holding a plate of food to lay in my lap once I sit up. The dork made me breakfast in bed, though I woke up late so he rushes me a little to get me out the door in time for his table read.

I won't bore you with the details on that, since it's basically a circle of them reading their lines, but I can't help but picture it in my head as I listen to Robert take the form of Tony. That, and being in the presence of the others really puts a picture in my head on how this film is going to go, especially after seeing the set being built.

I hit it off pretty well with Scarlet and the new member, Elizabeth, and of course I'm greeted kindly by Evans. I sort of fan girl a little over all of them, and Robert takes notice when I blush and shake Hemsworth and Renner's hands. I'm introduced to them all, but the younger guys...Robert's still a little jealous, which is apparent when he loops his arm around my waist after he catches my flustered state. 

"So you're the girl he's been talking about in the group chat," Jeremy teases with a fabulous smile, and I clear my throat, looking down awkwardly. 

"I, uh...I didn't know there was a group chat," I admit. "I guess that'd be me, though."

"I'm glad we have another girl on crew," Scarlet smirks, crossing her arms. "The guys think they own the place sometimes."

"Technically, I kind of do own the place," Robert says with narrowed eyes and a fake smile, to which I roll my own.

"Tony is Marvel's golden child, we all know," Mark pipes up, soft as any interview I've ever seen him talk in. "Is he always like this at home?"

"You guys have spent more time with him than I have," I laugh.

So Elizabeth cocks her head and blinks, trying to comprehend. "How long have you been together?"

"Actually," I swallow weirdly, "a year today."

"Happy anniversary!" Evans celebrates, nudging my shoulder, and then Robert's. "And you brought here here to celebrate? Come on, man!"

"Relax!" Downey huffs. "I'm cooking her dinner later."

There's a lunch, where I spend most of it gossiping about Robert's habits at home to the girls. They're entertained, I guess, because they're howling at my stories of him babysitting the cat or passing out on the couch with his laptop and glasses on like the old man he is sometimes. We exchange phone numbers, in case he's annoying on set, and I give them pointers on how I've learned to handle him, and eventually, he tells me it's time to go, so we head back to the house.

He's claiming to just have a quiet night in, with dinner and a movie, a nice goodbye before I leave on Monday, but I don't believe him. He's never been one to be quiet. 

Still, I let my guard down when we get home, and that's a bad idea. He distracts me for a few moments, keeping me busy in the kitchen by pouring me a glass of wine, but then he leads me out back, telling me we'll eat outside on the patio, and that's when I realize he's been up to something all day.

There's a group cheer of "surprise!" and my breath catches as I walk out to a decorated back yard, with a stage for a small band in the corner and a buffet set up near the walkway to the pool. There are fairy lights strung over head, and a cake sitting on the table.

"What in the hell?" I ask, turning to Robert with my wine glass nearly spilling. "What is this?"

He smiles, hands moving to my hips as he slips behind me and helps me walk down the stairs to the guests. "I know it's our anniversary, and trust me, we'll celebrate on our own, too, but you're going to be leaving for two months, and everyone wanted to say goodbye, so..."

"So we threw you a surprise going away party," Devin grins when she steps up to say hello. 

I glance around, realizing he's invited literally everyone I know, including his group from the table read who show up a little later. But he's got my family here, my mom, my aunt and uncle, the friends we've made from his office and his filming...and am I surprised? Yes. Entirely.

"You set this all up?" I ask, turning back to him.

He nods, stroking my cheek with his hand.

"But we said no gifts!" I protest, but he shrugs.

"I'm gonna miss you like crazy..." And then he leans in for a delicate kiss, which I smile against until he pulls back and kisses my cheek to whisper in my ear. "Thanks for putting up with me for an entire year... Happy anniversary, babe."

It's the sweetest of gestures, and right after, he announces it's time to celebrate, so a band takes the stage, playing in the background. 

The night's full of mingling and people wishing me good luck, and dancing, of course. I'm getting more nervous by the second, realizing all of these people are expecting me to do well. But what if I don't? What if I forget a line or fall on stage, or... I don't know. What if they don't like my new music, only the few singles? What if no one shows up to the meet and greet sessions I have planned before each one? Or worse - what if the stadiums wind up empty, no one feeling like coming? Maybe the ticket sales were a lie.

But a little later to distract me, he pulls me out into the grass to dance with him and a few other couples. He holds me close against him, not wanting any of the silly space between us. So I lay my head on his shoulder, one hand up in the hair at the base of his neck, per usual, and let him sway us to the slow song. 

"So, did I do a good job?" he muses after some silent time passes between us.

"Yes," I whisper. "You didn't have to do this."

"I just wanted to remind you how many people are rooting for you," he tells me, which doesn't help, though he probably thinks it does. "And I know we're both gonna be busy, but I'm gonna be rooting for you."

"You'll be okay with Aero?" I ask, knowing he'll be here for a week or two before heading to Atlanta for most of June and half of July to film before starting work on his other project. "You know where his carriers are, and-"

"Yes," he laughs, kissing my hair. "He'll miss you, too, but I promise I know how to take care of a cat."

"Okay..." I sigh. "And don't forget to buy that diet food we talked about, I switched him over and-"

"I know," he interrupts. "We'll be okay, promise."

There's a few more minutes of quietness, but then he decides to go on, feeling close just like I am right now. I guess that's another reason why we're good together; we can sense each other's moods pretty well.

"So this past year..." he pushes. "Good?"

"Very good," I confirm quietly. "I can't believe it's been a year already."

"Thank you for coming back to Atlanta," he whispers. 

"What?" I ask, tensing a little bit, but he's quick to calm me. 

"That was the luckiest damn day of my life. I mean that."

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes. "I love you."

"Love you more," he replies. "And actually...I know the whole no gifts thing was said, but there's another one I have for you. It's not a big deal, but I just want you to remember I support you in absolutely anything you do, no matter who that's with, so..."

I perk up when he stops our dance, smiling at me delicately. My heart flutters, and I wonder for a second what he's up to. But...he heard me say I didn't want marriage, and even if I didn't mean it... Is this...maybe he's going to...

"Bobby-" I say with a hush, but he silences me with a soft smile and kisses me lightly before stepping away.

"Stay here," he requests.

I furrow my brow, confused, but agree. And then he's gone, leaving me standing awkwardly in the middle of the grass.

But then the song cuts out, and there's silence...and a spotlight on the stage. And I focus, before realizing that's where he's disappeared to, and he's not alone. He's...with one of my buddies I haven't seen in a long time, one he isn't too fond of - Rob Thomas. And when he starts playing guitar from the stool he's on, my focus shifts to Robert, who's standing at the mic, eyes focused on me as he sings one of the songs of theirs I'm quite fond of.

"Tonight, looking back on all this life... It's funny how the time goes by, and how, sometimes, it slides away," he starts softly. "Time, sliding through the dead of night, shaking 'till you start to cry... Your eyes won't dry till light of day."

I can't take my eyes off of him as he sings, and vice versa. I can't believe how sweet this is...he's proving to me he can work with me, and the people I like, and that as jealous as he's been with Rob, they can get along, and that means the world.

"And sleep away, don't let it go, don't let fade. Your dreams may cave, and falling apart is the only way... We go so low, when you don't know...I will. I will..."

Slowly, a smile creeps onto my face as I listen, tears welling in my eyes, and I can't even remember the other people in the yard watching this. Just him and me, intimate and meaningful.

"And if you go, take a little piece of me. Hang it by the place you sleep, and dream of me, don't leave, just sleep away... Don't let it go, don't let fade. Your dreams may cave, and falling apart is the only way... We go so low, when you don't know...I will."

And he remains on the stage for a moment, watching and smiling, until he clears his throat and steps down. Yeah...this man has my heart, there's no doubt about that.


	109. Chapter 109

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Forgive me for the major time jump here, but I was not about to repeat three months of tour that would be basically the same as I wrote last time she went out on tour.

After leaving on a positive note and Robert's couple of cute tweets (one about our anniversary, the other about my tour), the time apart is mostly work for us both. I'd love to tell you it's anything out of the norm, but it's not. But hey, that can be a good thing, too! Nothing abnormal means nothing going wrong, no issues, no problems. There's no Charlie, no absurd fans, and the audiences are actually singing along to my music.

The stops aren't all sold out, given this is my first tour, but from where I stand on stage, it's hard to tell. It's honestly insane, and even though I'm nervous for the first one, the others come naturally. I can hear my heart beating the entire time the first show, nervous to take the stage, but once I'm up there and I realize people are cheering for my entrance, I know it'll be okay. And truth be told...I've been wearing that bracelet Robert got me for my first show for each one for luck...just in case I need to look to something for help.

He's face-timed me quite a bit and we talk for at least a couple minutes most nights while we're separated. The hardest part is keeping up with time zones, though. He's in Atlanta after a few days, starting filming with the rest, but the first few weeks for me are spent hopping around pacific coast and mountain time. June is spent mid country, fluctuating between mountain and central time, and July is the end of the tour in the eastern time zone, on my home coast. My last stop winds up being New York, another big city to close things out, and then I fly back to LA to see Robert again.

The good news is he sticks to that two week rule, or as best he can, so I do see him a couple times while I'm touring. The first is when I'm in Las Vegas for a couple shows at the end of May and Devin has me set up to do a radio interview with their big Top Forty station. 

"So we have the one and only miss Rachel Thomas in the studio with us this morning," they introduce after I've sat down during a break.

There's a woman Jessie, and a guy from the venue I'll be playing at helping her out, Sunny, I think his name is, and compared to the last time I had to do radio before this tour, everyone is super kind. I don't know if it's because my name has grown or what, but I'll take it.

"Hi!" I say shyly into the mic above us, and glance at Devin in the window who gives me a thumbs up, as she's been doing on every interview so far. "It's good to be here."

"We're so excited you're here!" Jessie celebrates. "You're playing tonight, so we weren't sure if you'd have time but-"

"Oh, I always have time for you guys!" I tease, trying to give my best, and it works.

She laughs and grins at me across the table. "You're so busy, I imagine. This is only the second week of your eight week summer tour."

"Yes," I confirm.

"And you released the album earlier this year, which has now been sitting at number four for the past four weeks."

"Has it?!" I gasp. "I honestly try not to look. I get too anxious!"

"It is!" Sunny answers for her. "For good reason, too."

"That's incredible," I sigh. "I honestly didn't expect it to even chart."

"Well, you're playing an almost sold out tour, too," Sunny reminds me kindly. "Your fan base really delivered."

"It's crazy, isn't it?" I ask, shaking my head under the headphones they have on me. "I guess I'm getting used to it, but I came form this small city and a desk job to-"

"To being on the big stage and living in Los Angeles?" Jessie teases.

"Exactly. I don't think I'll ever understand why, but I'm just really thankful for everyone who supports me. It would be impossible for me to be here without them."

"Well, we have a couple surprise questions," she starts off, and I nod silently, crossing my legs and leaning forward with interest. "We gathered a few online from fans who wanted to ask you some stuff."

"Okay," I accept. "Let's have it!"

"Well, let's start with Cooper, who wants to tell you he's your biggest fan," she starts, and I giggle stupidly.

"Hi, Cooper," I answer in a sweet voice. "Thank you!"

"He's interested in your writing. Do you write all of your tracks, or does someone else write them for you?"

"They're all mine," I answer truthfully. "I tend to write a lot, just to get things off my chest. I have too much that isn't released just stored away somewhere, poetry and real writing and such... I don't do it much anymore, but it used to be a go to, especially after a bad day or two."

"Kind of like a journal?"

"Sort of...a lot less organized, though."

She laughs, then changes cards. "Amanda wants to know more about your cat! And I agree. We haven't seen him in a while!"

"Aero?" I laugh, not realizing he had a following on social media as well. "He's actually not with me! He's in Atlanta at the moment. I didn't want to put the pressure of travel on him again..."

"Does he travel often?" Sunny asks.

"He's okay with it, yes," I tell them. "But I had no idea how busy I'd be, and honestly, if he was here I'd probably hardly ever see him. He's being looked after, though, so I'm not worried. I'm sure he's having a great time without me."

"I have another one here from Jessica," Jessie reads aloud. "She brought up a good point, you met Rob Thomas last time you were in Las Vegas, didn't you?"

"I did!" I answer happily. "It was, uh, at the hotel, and he refused to be put in a smoking room, actually. I don't smoke, but I could tolerate it, so we wound up switching and trading phone numbers."

"Do you guys still keep in touch?"

"We do. I saw him...right before I left. He was at the house, we had a little party before I left."

"We actually saw him not too long ago," Sunny states. "He said he loves the album!"

"Really?! That's so sweet."

"Okay, last one," Jessie decides. "Bethany says she moved here from Pittsburgh a few years ago but she's aching to go back. Are you ever home sick?"

"I do get a little home sick," I sigh. "But it's not as bad anymore. I think at first, it was tough, but now that I'm living with someone else, it kind of makes me feel more at home than when it was just me."

"So you're still living with-"

"Yes," I answer before she finishes, giddy as hell at the mention of him, but also missing him again as that aching feeling of wanting to hug him even for a second creeps in. "He's actually the one babysitting Aero right now."

"And of course we're talking about Robert Downey Jr, Iron Man himself," Sunny mumbles, probably not too thrilled, but that's okay. "So you haven't seen him lately, huh?"

"Not since I left," I admit sadly. "I mean, we talk every day, and he sends me photos of the cat and of the crew on set, but it's not quite the same. It's just tough getting time to visit."

"So I guess you're missing him right now, aren't ya?" Jessie asks, and I smirk, looking down with embarrassment. 

"Yeah, a little," I lie; it's a lot.

"Right, right..." she follows, and then, "well, what if we change that..."

And that's when I'm surprised the first time, because he comes strolling into the studio, leaving my hands over my mouth as I stare in shock and surprise and excitement.

"Hey," he greets, adorable dorky smirk and his gray tinted sunglasses on.

"Hi, baby!" I squeak out, voice suddenly high pitched and emotional, and that's when I toss off the headphones and stand to propel myself at him full force, hugging him tightly with my arms around his neck. "Oh my God, you're really here!"

"I am," he laughs, hugging back before I steal him in a kiss hello, melting into his embrace and forgetting the other two in the room and Devin in the window, who I'm sure knew about this, too. "Miss me?"

"So much," I sigh.

"Welcome to the show, Mr Downey," Jessie welcomes slyly from her seat, so that's when Robert takes my hand and leads me back to my chair. 

I grab the headphones and put them back on, taking my seat, and instead of taking his own, he takes a seat of his own on my lap, arm draped around my shoulder for stability. Thank the Lord he's little.

"Thanks for coming out," Sunny greets, and he grins his perfectly grin at them.

"Wouldn't miss it!" he answers.

I wrap my arms around his torso, enjoying his warmth and just needing to touch him since I haven't been able to.

"You flew in from Atlanta," Jessie muses, and he nods.

"We've been filming for the Avengers," he confirms. "And I've been working on another project..." he starts.

"The Judge, right, babe? Is that the name you've settled on?" I ask.

"Yeah, like it?"

"I do," I agree. 

"I love how you two work together," Jessie smiles. "Are you always this close?"

"Most of the time," I laugh, leaning my head against his side. 

"So you know the plot of the new Avengers?"

"I do," I smirk. "But I cannot release any information."

"Trust me, she's dying to," Robert huffs next. 

"Rachel, you started out as a fan of his, didn't you?" Sunny asks, and I blush.

"I did," I answer awkwardly. "I still am, even now that I know how insanely weird he is."

"Hey!" he gasps dramatically, and I laugh, squeezing him for a moment. 

"And Robert, you're a fan of Rachel's music?"

"Of course, how can I not be? Have you heard that voice of hers?"

"Have you seen her show?" Jessie asks, prying into our personal life.

So I glance up at him, blinking before he answers carefully. "I haven't, this is going to be my first one."

"Oh, no, you're watching it?!" I groan, and he runs his hand through my hair to comfort me.

"I don't know why you get like this, you know I love your songs," he teases, looking down at me, then back to them. "I promise you she isn't shy at home."

"How is living together?" Jessie asks next. "Did you have to adjust? Have you guys like, picked up on each other cues yet?"

"Oh, yes," I think out loud, watching as Robert keeps his focus forward; I can't help but admire his side profile. "We're pretty in tune with how each of us operates. Like I pretty much expect him to leave his bag by the door now if he isn't out, or find him knocked out on the couch if he's working from home. Oh, and he's absolutely useless without caffeine in the mornings," I tease.

He scowls at me playfully, pinching my shoulder. "Useless? Okay, well then I won't tell them how you sleep till noon every day unless I wake you up first."

"It's called beauty rest!" I snap, and the others laugh.

"So this cuteness isn't just for show, huh?" Jessie teases.

But Sunny presses further into our relationship. "How much like Tony Stark is he? Does he do anything similar to his character at home, or-"

"He does that jaw adjustment thing, where he cracks it and straightens up," I immediately interject. "And the narrowed eyes. He judges a lot."

"What can I say?" he shrugs, back to playing with my hair. "I am Iron Man."

I wind up rolling my eyes at that, but still hold onto him with laughter, and that's when they wrap it up. 

"I just want to..." Sunny says as he gets his phone out. "I just wanna take a photo here, and show everyone how you two are sitting, because it's adorable."

I blush, biting my lip, but let him go for it, and thankfully Robert is cool about it, too. They post it after we wrap the interview, and then we say goodbye and head back down to the car that's gonna take me to the venue to get ready for sound check and stage.

Robert's tame the entire car ride there, but once we're in the dressing room, Devin tells us she's going to give us a few minutes alone, knowing I want nothing more than to jump him, and I do...sort of. We wind up in a short make out session on the couch, which ends in small talk and him catching me up on filming and showing me photos of Aero. Sex is saved until later that night, since he's only in for the day, and that's needy and frantic and full of pent up energy he has from watching my show. Apparently he finds my new stage presence hot.

The second surprise is my own, sometime mid June, when I show up in Atlanta earlier than expected. I tell him I'll only be in the day before the show, but wind up getting in the day before that and show up on set. 

It's different, though, because the night before we have an interesting phone call... He's not feeling it, which is usually the opposite. He's been working hard, between his two movies and the one Jon's putting together that they filmed last year, and he's tired and moody, and when he calls me, he tells me he's sitting in the trailer in the dark on the floor, listening to my album in the background because he needed an escape.

"What's going on?" I try to probe, but he just sighs, voice tired and raspy.

"I just miss you," he tells me quietly. "Can't always be peppy and hyper, love. You know that."

"I know," I agree, frowning to myself. "But what happened? Do you need to talk?"

"I just need to hear your voice," he answers. "I talked to Dan earlier, I might call him again tomorrow. ...You're in on Friday, right?"

"Yeah," I confirm softly. "You know I love you, right?" 

"Yes," he chuckles into the phone. "And I love you, too."

"Okay..." I exhale. "I just worry about you when you're like this. You're not depressed much, that's my job!"

"Not anymore, right?" he asks, and I have to agree. "Tour's going good, no more ghosts haunting you... No more nightmares, right?"

"Right," I state. "It's been nice...no drama."

"It has," he says and I can hear the slight smile on his voice.

And when I show up the next day, he hugs me for what seems like ages, stepping off set the moment he sees me, not caring if he's mid shoot. The crew isn't the happiest, but he's Tony Stark, he can do what he wants.

We have dinner with the cast, and then we spend the next day at the house after he had them rearrange the shoot. The following day I convince him to step out onto stage with me the following night to sing our version of Every Breath You Take together.

"So, I have a surprise for you guys tonight," I speak into the mic as I tune my guitar. "If you're okay with it, I was hoping we'd sing the very first song of mine that was released to radio. You might've heard it...Sting sang it..."

They cheer, which is nice, and I feel much more confident when I look to my side and announce Robert's entrance.

"I've come to love Atlanta," I tell them, which is well received, as well. "Not just because of you lovely people or your lovely city, but also because it's become my home. And currently at home with me...is a certain someone you might know..." I hint. "He's currently filming the Avengers!" I say with excitement, and that's when they really react, and I giggle. "Come on, Bobby!"

And out pops Downey, dancing awkwardly with his cocky attitude until he kisses me hello and sets up at his mic stand. He's got a fancy sweater on, sleeves rolled up, and that beaded bracelet I gave him as a gift forever ago. 

It goes well, and we head back to the house for the night, Devin opting for a hotel to give us privacy, and Lord do we need it. Despite the day before, tonight, we barely make it to the living room before he decides just to settle on the couch. 

And the third is when he surprises me in Charlotte in the beginning of July. 

I'm working the meet and greet line behind the stage before the show starts, the line of fans with passes waiting to step up and take photos with me. It's a little more organized than it used to be when I opened, which is nice. There's security and a professional camera man to take the photos and the online team Devin's set up with Delilah will process them online for them to download later on. They need passes to get into this, which I've sent out to some hand picked people, and given some to radio stations to give away. 

Anyway, when I finish up with the first batch and they bring the second group in to line up, I'm alerted by a commotion to my side, and when I turn, in strolls Robert from behind one of the curtains with his security on all sides.

"Is this where we get to meet the headlining act?" he asks, pointing to the ground I'm standing on when he stops at my side, and I immediately jump at him and embrace him in a warm hug.

"Are you trying to kill me?!" I laugh. "Stop surprising me like this!"

"Sorry, next time I won't come," he smirks, but I silence him with a kiss and my hands to both cheeks. "Hmm, hello to you too. Run that by me again?"

I bite my lip, but agree to kiss him again, before I remember I have a line of people waiting so I can't really me ignoring them right now.

"I had no idea he was here!" I tell them, and realize they're talking even louder at the sight of him. "Do you guys wanna meet him, too?"

So I convince him to take photos with me, and when I'm taken down to dress for stage, he's given the direction to stand with Devin side stage.

It's all a little over whelming, but it's funny how we both manage to surprise each other. And before I know it, I'm wrapping up in New York, and it's mid July, and I honestly want nothing more than to head back to Atlanta and spend some quality time with him and Aero, instead of the quick one day visits.


	110. Chapter 110

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes, I have blessed you with three updates today. I've had a lot of this sitting, and I'm gonna be busy working on stuff this week and doing OT at my actual work, so... Also, I get to meet my favorite Duckling next week and I'm - ugh, I just need it to be next week. K, I better see comments on this after all this writing, oof! Hehe, kidding, but hope you enjoy.

"And my followers have nearly tripled," I tell him excitedly, but I'm quickly interrupted by another kiss, which I continue to talk against in the car on the way to the house. "And the sales for merch at our stands...Dev's gonna open an online store, and-"

Another kiss, this time with a grab to my ass, so I groan into his mouth and let him shift me over his waist, not caring about traffic laws at the moment. Thank God we have a driver taking me back from the airport.

He's been all hands and kisses since I boarded the car, but I just have too much to fill him in one after splitting with Devin for a little while. We went over future details, and she's going to do some work while I hang out with Robert in Atlanta until he wraps in just about a week. Then he's off to LA again to do some work on Chef promotions with Jon, and in the fall we're headed to the northeast to shoot some scenes for The Judge, and some more scenes for the Avengers movie after that. He's worked out his schedule to fit all of this in, though after a couple weeks, the other members of the Avengers cast will be back to work. It's just a mini vacation, since they started filming just after I left and have been hard at work for several months, as well.

Anyway, when we make it to the house, he's quick to take me to bed, wanting to be close to me, just as I do him, so there's no complaints. Plus, it's late, and I just want to sleep for a year, but that's not gonna be possible. Still, I'm all into the way he holds my hands on the pillow as he eagerly thrusts into me, adding just the slightest kink to the night. Honestly, both of us just want to be together after that long ass time, so I wasn't expecting anything too crazy the first night back.

The following morning I wake up in a tangle of sheets and his arms, and I feel at home again. I'm beat, after flying all the way to LA the day before and then jumping back onto a flight to Atlanta. I didn't have to, but I wanted to leave some stuff at the house, and make sure Robert was expecting me. He sent the jet, letting me fly out with a bed, so I napped at least.

Regardless, I stretch a big stretch, ultimately waking him in the process, but I don't think he minds. He grunts when he does the same, then sleepily blinks his eyes open and smiles at me, pulling me in for a good morning kiss.

"You're not running off to a different city today, right?" he mumbles with a yawn, and I laugh, tired as hell but happy to hear his voice. 

"Not that I know of," I whisper back. "I'm here to stay, I think."

"Stay, huh?" he laughs, light hearted and happy. "I'm so fucking glad to hear that."

My arms search out his back as I roll on my side to face him, and he places another kiss on my forehead. It's soft, and caring, and then he nuzzles my hair as he tucks my head under his chin in a sleepy hug. 

"I missed you too much," he tells me, voice raspy and deep, as it usually is in the morning. "Don't leave again."

My heart flares at this, and I close my eyes again, snuggling into him and wanting to drift back off, but his voice keeps me present as he adds to that request.

"Seriously...I need you here."

"I'm not going anywhere," I answer in a hushed whisper, and I eventually wind up falling asleep again, but not after I hear him whisper I love you with another kiss to my hair.

I spend a few days at the house, even though I want to be close to him, but I just need to rest. Then the rest of the week I accompany him on set, and the girls are glad to see me again. It's nice, having friends on set that aren't just Robert, especially since Gwyn won't be working on this one.

But it doesn't last long before the end of the week arrives and I'm finding myself at a cast dinner in the form of a half term wrap party with a DJ playing and a celebration of having half the movie shot. I'm depressed I missed most of it, but I'll be around in the fall for the second set of his shots. 

Dev's come back out after her own week alone, and she's keeping me company as I sit with Robert and Jimmy at one table while they have champagne delivered to each person. I've stolen his hoodie, feeling the chill of the night air now that the sun's going down, despite it being summer. He was quick to grab it from the trailer and bring it back to me, insisting he do it. He's also insisted on making a speech, and I'm not about to question him. I know when he wants something, he gets it, no matter the issue, and he's probably just on an adrenaline high after running across the green screen this morning.

Even for working all morning, he looks good, by the way. He's definitely gotten more in shape since I've been gone, probably a last minute push to fit the movie, and his hair's dyed darker again. I'm okay with it, though I miss the gray tinges at the sides. He doesn't like them, but they're attractive to me. Honestly, he's attractive with whatever he wears...even the dark jeans and suit jacket over a t shirt he's decided to go with...and those dark frames I freaking adore.

After the champagne is distributed, though, he gives me a quick kiss and then I find myself standing with Jimmy and Devin in the back he takes the stage so I'm not left alone sitting at the table. They both have their live feeds going, Jimmy for Robert's page, and I'm assuming Devin on mine just because she's always broadcasting shit to my social media without me knowing. It's okay, though, it's her job.

His presence is enough to silence everyone, and I can't help but smirk at how ridiculous he is, his cocky attitude bursting out again as he bows in front of the mic.

"Thank you for noticing me," he teases lowly, then rushes into the main point. "So I'll make this quick, but I gotta say thanks to all of you for putting up with my shit for the past couple of months...even if we're not quite done yet. Just need you guys to know you're appreciated, ya know?"

Everyone laughs, myself included, because yes, he is definitely a handful.

"Most importantly, to the crew here, really... Without you guys, we have no set. No lighting. No direction," he articulates, earning smiles from the crowd.

I shake my head, hanging onto my champagne glass, as I shift on my feet.

"Does he have to do these every time he wraps?" I tease under my breath to Jimmy, and he smirks, himself, talking lowly back so we aren't interrupting his rant.

"Every break."

"But they're not even done shooting the movie."

"If there's a break, there's a speech," Jimmy eyes me, so I sigh and give in.

"To uh...the cast, obviously, myself included," Robert continues as he jokes in a lower octave.

The group chuckles again but I just grin lovingly back and roll my eyes again. He notices because he smiles back over the microphone in hand.

"No, seriously, you all have done such a great job, and this movie wouldn't even be half as good as it comes out to be if it's just my sorry ass in it," he teases. "To the interns and the security and everyone who put extra time on this first half...to Jim over there making sure everyone online gets to celebrate with us, and especially my wonderful, loving fiance back there with him..."

I snap my head up from its focus on the glass and blink, dumbfounded. Did I just hear him right? What the hell did that mean? Am I daydreaming this again? I gotta be daydreaming again...

He grins. "Oh, wait... I'm sorry, I guess I have to ask first before I can start calling you that."

My heart stops, my hands now clutching onto the glass with force as he fishes around in his pockets for something. He shrugs it off and steps closer to me, pointing at his jacket that I conveniently stole and wore today.

"Shit, not here... You know what, uh, hey, honey," he speaks into the mic, "can you check your pockets there, Rach?"

I stare at him with hesitation for a second, my mouth hanging open in confusion. This is really fucking happening, isn't it?! The feeling of everyone's eyes on me is burning into my skin, so I shift my gaze back down and blink, dropping my free hand into my right pocket.

And then it hits it. I don't even have to remove it to know what it is. It's smooth, light, and round, and the cool metal is nice against my nervous fingers. I can't help the way I bite my lip in disbelief, and then they tug up into a genuine smile when I look back up at him.

I have no idea what to say at this point, as he closes the distance between us and stands there with his dark eyes softer than I've ever seen. His head's tilted ever so slightly and he's smirking that usual Downey smirk.

"You find it?" he asks, turning his smirk into a grin.

I press my lips together and nod, then squeeze my eyes shut for a second to blink back the water I feel forming, flashing my gaze anywhere but him while I compose myself. Then, I pull the ring out of my pocket and hold it in my palm for him, realizing this was all part of his sneaky little plan. It's stunning; silver and simple, but detailed, down to the finishing touches that resemble the familiar triangle of Tony's arc, set within another circular diamond.

Then, he takes my glass from my hand and passes it to Jimmy, who's ready to receive it. I watch it go, then wait as he picks the silver band out of my hand and clears his throat, pulling the mic back to his lips.

"So, uh... I had this dream a while back that reminded me of when we first met and you teased me for being too much like Tony," he begins, focused on the ring for a second. "So I thought it would only be fitting to have something that resembles everything I am...including Tony Stark. Cause let's face it...sometimes I swear you love the guy more than me," he jokes, eyes meeting mine again as the rest of the guests let out a soft laugh.

I roll my eyes playfully, so he goes on.

"Rach... All of this, all of what I do...you know it means nothing without you. You are so incredibly patient and loyal and dedicated. You have the biggest heart I have ever seen...for me, for your family and friends...the fans...and it's not fair because you've had this unfortunate luck of being handed bad situations, yet you're still helping everyone else. And me, through all the hell we've fought through behind the scenes... But you've opened my eyes to so much that I used to take for granted, and this whole time that you've been away...I knew it before, but I just know it for sure now..."

I watch him as he speaks, back to biting my lip to remain steady, but I'm beginning to get overwhelmed with emotions.

"Do you remember that night I drove you back home after your aunt's benefit?" he asks, going back to the beginning of our relationship, and I nod again. "I told you you'd find someone better...someone who treats you with the respect you deserve. Someone who loves you for you, not for who they want to turn you into. And while you already do that for me...Rach, I want to be that someone for you for as long as I can be."

"Robert..." I breathe, my stomach fluttering and my eyes threatening tears.

He hushes me, rolling back his shoulders slightly. "I gotta ask you something...something that I've been meaning to for a few months now and just couldn't find the perfect time..." he admits.

Before I can react, he's sinking to the floor on one knee in front of me, holding up the ring in presentation to me. I can't focus on it, though. My hands are subconsciously at my mouth, covering my giggles through blurry eyes. My heart's beating faster than I've ever felt, and my mind's racing, caught somewhere between 'holy shit you're getting married' and 'your lifetime celebrity crush somehow turned boyfriend is proposing to you'. He's doing it. He's actually doing it and it isn't just my imagination, it isn't me hoping. He said he's been planning this for months... There's a few loving gasps from the girls, I'm guessing Scarlet and Lizzie...but I'm sure they already knew.

"Honey," he almost sings, smiling widely at me as I break down. "Come on, babe," he laughs. "I haven't even gotten to the good part yet!"

I hear the others in the tent laugh with him, and I wipe my eyes, shooting him a look with more love than he's giving off.

"Do you even know what you're doing?!" I yelp, and he looks confused.

"I'm pretty sure I'm proposing to you," he explains anyway. "Can I keep going?"

"Okay, okay..." I manage.

He shakes his head, smiling wide.

"God...you're so beautiful..." he tells me sincerely, making me blush harder.

Then, he blinks and continues.

"There's nothing I want more than to be able to call you my wife...and I've been waiting forever now to ask you this, so...I dunno if I still need to ask," he chuckles, "but in case you still don't know what I'm getting at here...will you, Rachel Marie Thomas, marry me?"

I simply stare down at him, still biting my lower lip, suppressing my smile, analyzing everything on his face at this precise moment. He doesn't look nervous, but I've known him long enough to know his acting is impeccable when it comes to seeming confident, so he probably still is underneath. But, he's patiently awaiting my answer, first and foremost, and that's what I love most. No pressure, just...care.

I realize I've been thinking too long and an awkward silence has come across the room so I force myself to nod, at a loss for words, and his shoulders visibly relax as he passes the mic on to Jimmy, as well.

"Yes, you dork," I finally sputter out in a fit of ecstatic giggles. "A thousand times, yes."

"Yes?!" he repeats, looking shocked...which I guess is my fault for all the times that I've turned him down or spoken badly about marriage in general.

"Yes, yes I'll marry you!"

Taking my hand eagerly, he quickly slides the ring into place on my finger, then pulls himself up to stand and immediately takes me in for a celebratory kiss, his lips pressing to mine harder than I've ever felt, the both of us unable to stop smiling.

He peppers a few more on after that while the room congratulates us. A few cat calls come as well, probably from Renner or one of the other guys, but I can barely hear it. I can't stop the flow of tears now, propelling down my cheeks, and he doesn't seem to care, either, as he places his hands on my neck, thumbs brushing them away.

"I love you," he whispers when he takes me in for a big hug, swaying us back and forth in happiness.

"I love you too," I manage out, holding onto him until he kisses me again.

When he breaks away, he throws a hand up in the air, shouting, "we're getting married!" excitedly, making me almost keel back with laughter.

But I hold onto his torso instead, head on his chest and wide grin on my face while he celebrates, fist bumping a few of the guys who've come to give their love. My blurry gaze meets Devin across the room, who's snapping photos like crazy, and I can't help but giggle when she looks like she's about to cry, herself. Then, his arms return to me and I look up when he hugs me back, engulfed in another smiling kiss.

"I can't believe you just did that!" I laugh through more tears when we part, settling down a little bit now that the crowd's let us alone. "You're crazy!"

"I told you I was gonna marry you, Rachel," he beams back. "And God, did I mean it."

"Oh my God," I breathe in disbelief. "I'm engaged. I'm actually...this..."

I've never been this much of a child before, but suddenly I'm squealing and jumping up and down excitedly, pulling him in for another kiss, happier than ever. I feel him smile against my lips, clearly amused by my reaction, and when I break away, his eyes follow mine to the stone on my hand.

"It looks even better there than it did in the box," he murmurs, hand on my own to help display it as I hold it up.

"God, Robert, how much did you spend on this thing?!"

"Doesn't matter," he answers simply. "Even so, I have the money, so it isn't an issue. But you deserve the best and I wasn't about to settle for something generic."

"It's perfect," I sigh, enjoying its sparkle and the new feel of the band on my left hand.

"Like you," he flirts back, being a sap, and I slap him playfully.

"Stop!" I tease, then bite my lip. "My mother's gonna freak out..."

He smirks. "About that...she knows," he tells me sheepishly. "I sorta asked her for her permission, since your dad isn't here and all and-"

"Wait, you what?" I blink, just surprised. "When did that happen? We haven't seen her since..."

"Since her visit to set? Yeah," he confirms. "I asked her when you went to the bathroom at dinner."

"Robert," I gasp, "that was months ago!"

He nods, aware. "I told you I was sure. I just had to wait till you were. And till I figured out how I wanted to ask," he adds, scratching the back of his neck. "And...I mean this isn't the most flashy way, I know, but...I don't know, I just thought with our friends here and-"

"It's perfect," I assure him.

"I just wanted to make sure I still surprised you, since we kind of talked about it, and-"

"You did," I promise. "I had no idea. I was wearing this damn hoodie all day and never noticed!"

He laughs, pecking my lips again. "I slipped it in just before, just in case it got lost."

"Oh you sly little devil," I tease, brushing his cheek with my hand. "How'd you get my mom to say yes so fast, anyway?"

"Well," he says and exhales, gathering his memories. "I just told her I wanted to ask her something important... So I told her I know I don't know her too well and I know the age difference might still be a little weird, but I love you very much, and then promised her I'm still clean and everything's finally going well... I didn't even have to ask, Rach. She said she already knew I wasn't like the other guys she's seen you with...especially...Charlie. She just said 'it's okay', so I asked her, just to make sure, if she understood that I wanted to propose...and that was that."

"That long ago, huh?" I sigh. 

"I wanted to ask back on Valentine's Day in England," he admits quietly. "I had the ring ready to go, but those earrings were a backup just in case, and...and when I saw how nervous you were at dinner...I don't know, I just changed my mind."

"You...you had the ring in London?" I breathe, realizing maybe I did really feel that box in his pocket.

"And on your birthday, but you were drunk, and when I put you to bed you were rambling about how you thought I was going to ditch you. And then again for our anniversary but that day you read the script you told Devin you didn't want to get married... So I just...hung onto it for a while. But I saw how you handled Charlie... You were confident and I haven't seen a single nightmare since, and then the time apart for your tour sort of convinced me to ask. I just know I want you, and I'm tired of waiting for the perfect romantic timing or my own nerves to dissipate..."

"I was hoping you would've," I breathe in confession, stroking his hair back now. "I guess I've always been a little conflicted, but then I think about you... I know you won't leave like everyone else has."

He exhales dramatically, then leans his forehead against mine, closing his eyes. "I am so fucking in love with you, it's stupid."

I can't help but smile back when he turns his face slightly to kiss the ring on my finger after I've brought my hand to his cheek. It's new and exciting and just ten minutes ago, there was nothing there. And now...now I get to wear his engagement ring every day until we're officially married.


	111. Chapter 111

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Short little fluff. May not update for a few days, got some projects to work on. Hope that's okay...

"That's...my mother," I sigh, forehead still against his as the music in the background starts back up again and the group starts mingling, picking at the food along the back table. 

My phone's since started buzzing in my pocket, and I know that ringtone anywhere... So he kisses my nose and squeezes my hands, then lets me go. 

"Take it," he tells me kindly. "I can wait a little longer."

I fake a smile, then answer the call, stepping outside and heading toward one of the sets inside which are now silent and dark. Hawkeye's house is closest, the living room set warm and comforting as I bring the phone to my ear and utilize the couch none of the cast ever actually sit on for this part of the movie.

"Hey, mom," I pick up, biting my lip. 

I know why she's calling...but I'm going to let her announce it.

"Congratulations," she celebrates instantly, and I figure she either watched the live stream or she knew it was happening to begin with.

"How'd you know?" I ask anyway.

"Devin text me a photo," she informs me with a laugh. "I don't think I've ever seen you so happy."

I huff in amusement, picking at a piece of lint on the couch prop. But the ring catches my attention, gleaming in the faint light coming in from outside, and I can't help but extend my fingers to look down at it.

"I am happy," I whisper back into the receiver. "Mom, he fucking proposed!"

"I know," she chuckles back. "So when do I get to see the ring?" 

"I'll send you a photo," I promise, then sigh and close my eyes, holding my hand close to my chest instead, right over my heart in a fist. "Am I dreaming? I have to be dreaming."

"No, but I feel like you've probably dreamed about this before," she teases. "But you are very, very much so awake."

"He told you," I remember out loud, and smile softly. 

I can hear her continue chuckling at me, but it doesn't bother me. I'm still in shock. 

"I knew," she admits. "But I thought he was doing it sooner. So I wasn't aware today was the big day."

I sigh again, rambling and skipping around as my mind jumps from issue to issue. "I told him I wasn't sure about marriage, and-"

"He mentioned that," she answers, cutting me off. "And I told him you were being dramatic and were only saying that because that's what you were raised with. I knew you'd say yes."

"I'm fucking engaged, mom," I respond, nothing pertaining to the conversation. "I'm getting married."

"We'll have to get started on wedding planning now that you have some spare time, hmm?"

My heart skips a beat, thinking of all the stuff that's going to need done. I've only been engaged for like fifteen minutes, and I'm already a frantic mess. How do I even start? Where do I start?

But then my mind makes a realization that I don't want it to, and I'm suddenly...sad? Depressed.

"No one's gonna walk me down the aisle..." I whisper, heartbroken by that. 

I can hear her hesitate awkwardly on the other side of the phone call, and I know she was hoping I wouldn't think of that. But the fact that she brought it up when she said she knew I'd say yes regardless of what happened to our family...

"We'll figure it out, Rach," she finally answers, but I'm already teary eyed.

Still, I pretend to accept that answer and then do what I usually do, distract myself with something else. "So, uh...you haven't heard from..."

"No," she answers quickly, not wanting me to say Charlie's name. "He hasn't bothered us, and I haven't had the guys watching the house for a few weeks," she admits, reminding me Robert had people set up in Pittsburgh while I was gone, just in case.

"Right..."

"Stop thinking about it," she requests. "I just wanted to hear it from you myself. Go spend some time with your new fiance."

I giggle a little at that word, biting my lip again as I hear it for the first time for real.

"Fiance..." I repeat. "God, that's insane."

She lets me get off the phone after that, but I don't head back in just yet. Instead, I hold onto my phone and take a deep breath, leaning my head back with my eyes closed as I fight off that remaining sadness over the fact that I don't have a father figure to give me away. It's really a mix of that and the ridiculous fact that I'm engaged. To Robert Downey fucking Jr. For real, not like a thing I've thought about when I was younger.

But I don't have long to think before I'm found.

The sound of shoes kicking dust in the air intentionally alerts me first, loud in this silent space. But it's familiar and I smile softly, bringing my chin down while I wipe the water from my eyes.

"Thought you got lost," Robert smirks.

"No, I'm good," I try to assure him. "Just needed a breather. There's a lot going on right now...I'm a little overwhelmed."

"And here I thought I did good, but you're crying again..." he muses.

I take a deep breath, shaking my head. "I'm happy, I promise."

He doesn't buy it, I guess, because he sits next to me, abducting my hand in his own, intertwining it and smiling down at the engagement ring. "Every damn time I held your hand for the past six months, I wondered what it would be like to see this thing on your finger."

That makes me laugh slightly, and so I close my eyes again and lean into his shoulder, my head rested on his shoulder as I grip his hand back. His thumb grazes the back of my hand as turns his head to kiss my hair, and I can feel him smiling back.

"Am I really marrying you?" I tease, trying to show I'm okay, and it makes him chuckle, so I suppose it works. "You're RDJ, you're...you shouldn't be marrying me."

"Oh, this again, huh?"

"You're just..." I mumble, trying to find the appropriate words. "I'm just in shock, okay? I don't believe I get to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Funny, I'm thinking the same thing," he murmurs. "And about how gorgeous of a bride you'll be."

I shiver at that, finally pushing myself to be honest with him. "My dad isn't here... I don't have anyone to give me away, and... I don't know, just hits home now that this is a reality."

"Hmm, told you you wanted a big wedding," he jokes. "Sweetheart, it'll be perfect, don't worry. It's way too early to be overthinking this."

I smirk, agreeing. "Okay...you're right."

"How about you give your fiance a kiss?" he suggests, and there's that word again.

"Fiance, huh?" I grin, lifting my head to look at his pretty eyes, still soft and warm like before. "Say that again."

"Your fiance," he teases delicately, leaning his head in brush his lips over mine, "wants to kiss you senseless on this couch from now till our wedding day."

"Robert!" I giggle right before he captures my lips, leaning me back and climbing on top of me on the couch as if it's not going to be in the movie.

He only smiles against me, though, and draws out our kiss until I feel his hands shift lower and down my leg, his hips pressing against mine, and that's when I have to break it off. Though, he movies his lips directly to my neck, leaving my breathless as I roam his back with my hands.

"Bobby, we can't, we-"

"No one even knows we're in here," he protests against my skin. 

"Babe," I giggle. "Later. There's a party missing you."

Pouting, he gives up and sits back up, pulling me with him once he forces himself to stand and accept that answer. "You're being missed, too, ya know. The girls are waiting for their gossip session."

I give him a small kiss when I stand, hand in his, and tell him to wait for later for anything else. But for now, he takes me back to the party, where the two of us are bombarded almost instantly.

I'm still shaking just little bit from excitement, and the ring on my finger feels weird...out of place. But in a good way. I know I'll find myself twirling it with my thumb when I'm thinking or fidgety from nerves in the future, but that's okay. 

And right now, I'm standing with a group of the girls surrounding me, my hand outstretched as they admire the ring on my finger. I was pulled from Robert the second Jimmy came over to congratulate him when we came back in. Devin stole me first, and then Scarlet and Elizabeth were on me, Cobie coming over as well, though I haven't really gotten a chance to speak with her.

If they could actually form hearts in their eyes, they would, I swear. And yes, the ring is absolutely beautiful, I just...wish I had a chance to look at it myself. But that's fine, because right now, even though they're asking me a thousand questions, inspecting it closely as Scarlet holds my hand on display, my eyes are only on Robert across the tent, who's smiling with a warmth in his eyes that melts my heart. 

"It's so beautiful," Scarlet sighs,and Elizabeth is right there with her.

"You're so lucky, girl."

Devin's snapping photos of it, probably for my mother, which is fine, but I'm only focused on him, still. 

"That was really adorable," Cobie admits. "Who knew he's such a softie."

"He's a teddy bear," I chuckle, my attention finally back on the group. "He's insane sometimes, but he's got such a creative spirit, so I expect it."

"They're this cuddly at home," Devin tells them. "It's disgusting."

"Get used to it," I snap playfully. "Because now you're stuck with us both forever."

"No boyfriend?" Scarlet asks her, and she shakes her head. 

"Had one, but that fizzled out fast. I haven't had time since."

"What?!" Elizabeth gasps at the same time Cobie makes the decision for her.

"We gotta get you a man, chica!" he jabs, elbowing my friend till she smiles. "Let's see...there's got to be plenty of guys on set who are single!"

"Evans is single," Scarlet smirks, and that's when I excuse myself, because Devin's eyes are too wide and I know she's going to start fangirling, and right now I want no part of that.

I decide to grab a drink while everyone's busy, enjoying the first bit of alone time I've had since Robert proposed, and find myself lingering in the corner alone. But as I grab a bottle of water from the table, I smile down at the glittering stone, inspecting my hand for myself in the dimming sunlight. I'm convinced I'm still daydreaming, though, because eventually, I feel two arms snake around my waist from behind and a chin rest on my shoulder after a small kiss is planted there. I lean back, holding onto his arms around me as I sigh.

"You really like it, huh?" he asks quietly.

I let my left hand join the other and squeeze his arm as I listen to the faint noises of those who are still enjoying the party in the background, content. "Of course! It's beautiful...I just can't believe it..."

I can almost hear him smiling, if that's possible. "Believe it, babe. You have no idea how happy I am right now."

"I'm happy, too," I promise. "It's just a little hard to process the fact that Robert Downey Jr wants me to marry him," I joke. "I mean...you've really had this planned that long?!"

"Since you came back to set," he murmurs into my ear, speaking of the day I told him I had Charlie arrested.

"Well, aren't you the romantic," I tease as he nuzzles his face into my neck, kissing lightly.

"Get used to it, missus Downey..."

I can't help but giggle. "Rachel Downey...huh, has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

He smiles against my skin and I can feel it. "You definitely thought of that before we met, didn't you?"

I blush in embarrassment but don't get to reply, because Jimmy's wandered our way and before we can say hello, he's snapping a photo on Robert's phone of the two of us being a little too cuddly.

"I want a copy of that!" I insist lightly.

"It's going on Instagram," he informs us.

"What?!" I gasp, but Robert holds me in place so I can't stress out. "You're posting it already?"

I hear a laugh in my ear, followed by a kiss on the cheek. "Sorry, babe. I had him live video the whole thing. I just wanted it on film, ya know?"

I freeze for a second, then sigh, accepting what is. I know my social media is probably blowing up, as is my phone, but after that call with my mom, I pocketed it and haven't looked since. 

Robert lets me go after that, grabbing the bottle from my hand to drink some of it, and it doesn't bother me. We share often, anyway, and now we have more reason to. But I'm soon missing his touch, so when he tries to hand back the bottle, I shake my head and wrap my arms around his waist instead, holding him close with my head under his chin. 

"You sticking around?" I hear him ask Jimmy as his hands rub up and down my back soothingly.

"Just a bit, gonna hang with Don and Renner for a bit, then duck out."

"Wanna head back to the house?" I ask, glancing up at Robert's defined jaw as I pull my hands back and run them up his chest. "If you're done here, anyway. We can stay."

"No, no, we can go," he agrees, leaning down to give me another kiss.

My hands cup his cheeks when he tries to pull back, allowing me to plant a few more pecks on his lips with a smile on my own. I'm so fucking giddy it's ridiculous, even if I'm getting a little tired.

"Guess what," I grin, eyes closed as I continue giving him soft kisses.

He gently leans me back with his own smile, arms around the small of my back, and suddenly, it's like no one else is in the room again.

"What?"

"We're getting married," I whisper, and he laughs that high pitched laugh of his that I love, followed by a content hum.

"We're getting married..." he repeats, voice just as happy as mine is. "Let's get out of here?"

I agree easily, saying goodnight to Devin, who says she'll have one of the girls drive her back to the hotel and we'll meet up tomorrow. Robert leads me to his car, the vintage Mustang we drove in earlier today.

It's a quiet ride, him fiddling with my hand in his over the center console on the way back. I'm caught between staring at his side profile and the way the ring glitters with the street lights that pass, sill memorized by how perfect everything about it is.

When he pulls into the garage, though, he stops the car quickly. I barley touch the door handle when he trots around the car, closing the door behind me after helping me out.

"Wait, wait, wait!" he instructs, tossing the keys on the counter to put away later.

"What?!" I giggle as he holds the door to the house shut.

But then he's scooping me up in his arms, bridal style, carrying me into the house before I can protest. It's a funny little struggle, trying to fit the two of us through the small door frame, but he's persistent.

"Welcome home," he murmurs, watching my eyes instead of his footsteps over the threshold.

"Bobby, we're not married yet!" I laugh when he sets me down finally.

"I'm practicing," he grins, taking my hand in his and bringing it to his lips to kiss the ring finger where the stone sits. "You said yes..." he hums lowly.

I can't help but smile back, still extremely giddy as I move my hands to slide up to his neck and take him in, forehead now resting against his.

"I said yes," I confirm, my eyes watching as he flickers his chocolate orbs back to me. "I can't believe you proposed..."

"I've been wanting to do that for ages," he admits.

"I know, you keep telling me," I giggle, and he smile back. "I would've said yes even then."

"It was worth the wait."

I sigh, not processing this even though it's been a couple hours. I'm nervous to see what the internet has to say tomorrow, but I refuse to look tonight. Tonight...tonight is for us. For him, for making this permanent. I'm never going to feel alone again. Never used, never cold, never broken. He's my drug, the healthy one that helps me grow. He's the thing I've been looking for for so many years, and it's crazy to think it's him who I found it in, but that's what happened, and now I don't have to worry about ever letting him go.

"I love you," is all I can muster, my eyes feeling watery again. "Thank you..."

"For what?" he asks with a smirk.

"Wanting me."

"Always," he agrees easily. "I want to spend forever making you happy."

Forever. God, I'm going to get to spend the rest of my life with this man. With this piece of art, this kind soul and golden heart. This quirky, weird as hell dork that I've loved my whole life already.

"Let's go to bed," I suggest on a whisper, and there's no hesitation at all from him.

But he doesn't attack me. Instead, he takes my hand and leads me down the hall toward the bedroom and thankfully Aero's off somewhere around the house so we have the room to ourselves. He stops us at the end of the bed, his warm eyes taking me in as I face him and bite my lip, waiting, and then he slowly and delicately leans in, gently brushing his lips against mine before firmly kissing me.

His tongue distracts me, slowly sweeping around with mine, until his hips press against mine and his hand wanders into my hair. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, but not without his other hand grazing my chest. And before I can work the tie on his pants undone, he's moving on to my jaw line, and then my neck, kissing and licking gently as he massages with the hand still in my hair.

"I'm gonna take my time with you tonight," he hums into my skin, his voice deep as it rumbles between us and gives me shivers. "Make love to my future wife...future Mrs Downey..."


	112. A/N

A/N: I wanted to put up something short discussing the future of this story. I have plenty written, ready to go, but due to an, uh, falling out of sorts, I guess, between myself and a few of the people I was close to who were reading this, I'm not sure what I am going to wind up doing. I am currently working on another part that I will post in a little bit, but past that is still undecided. I want to write this, I do, but it just won't be the same if the people I was writing it for are no longer interested. That being said, I want you all to know I am still debating keeping it going, I just need to think it over, because I was writing this for the people that needed an escape, that were invested in it, and without that...I'm just not sure. Hopefully I can get over it and write for those of you who may still be reading.


	113. Chapter 113

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Things happening:
> 
> 1\. RDJ, thank you sir for answering another one of my tweets by posting my Zodiac edit today. I adore you and you're always cheering me up when shit hits the fan.
> 
> 2\. To the ass hat who reported my story on here - please remove yourself from this narrative.
> 
> 3\. On top of friends falling out with me (which has sort of been resolved I guess), my parents and I are no longer speaking. So that's fucking awesome.
> 
> 4\. I get to meet my favorite in TWO DAYS and we're having an RDJ movie night - what should we watch?!
> 
> 5\. I didn't realize this many people really enjoyed this story. So I'll try to keep it going (if it doesn't get deleted after being reported). It might be slowly for a few weeks, because I'm going to be really busy this week... But thank you for reviewing.
> 
> 6\. Yes, this is a very sassy AN and I do not care...now to go back to working on the Avery cosplay, peace!

He leaves me breathless with every kiss, his lips searing against my skin. He moves them down my neck, pushing the hoodie from my shoulders and slipping his hands under my t shirt. It's pulled off quickly, probably the fastest thing of the whole night, and then he reattaches his mouth, moving down my shoulder. To help him out, I shimmy out of my shorts and then free him of his own pants before he steps us back and sits us down on the edge of the bed. He doesn't lay me down yet, he just sits us there, pulling back to brush my hair off my shoulder and let his hands trace there instead.

It's agonizing, how delicate he is. Not even the slowness, but just how soft and careful he is with his touch. He's watching where his hand touches, the other supporting him on the mattress, and I swear I've never seen him as focused as he is in this moment. He watches as it trails fire down my shoulder, down my arm, and then around to my back to release the hook on my bra with a simple snap, tugging it from my shoulders and off my front to toss it to the floor.

What's more grounding is the fact that he's silent. He's never silent.

So when he swallows and lets his eyes meet mine, I decide to help him out and gently lift his shirt from the hem. He allows it over his head, revealing his bare chest, clean and smooth for the movie, and it now occurs to me that this...this is mine. 

My hand travels over each bump of his abs as he holds a breath and follows my movement with his eyes. He's sculpted so fucking well, and it's unfair. It's unfair because it's nearly ridiculous that this is going to the the next and the last body that I have sex with. The person I get to wake up to every damn morning from here on out. And I know it's just an engagement, but the thing is...I believe him. I trust him. I know he isn't leaving.

Everyone leaves. But not him. It's a first, but a welcomed one.

My gaze meets my hand, the ring on my finger still thrilling me, and I think he realizes where my head's at, because he's letting his hand run up my opposite arm. He waits as I lock eyes with him, then lean down to place a slow kiss on his stomach, then a couple more up his chest until I close in on his lips. That's when he shifts closer to take me in for another kiss, hesitating just briefly before meeting my lips with his own.

He takes his time kissing me, laying us back softly, and after a few more moments, we're lying on our sides facing each other, mouths still locked in slow, sweet kisses. He's hoisting my leg over his hip, letting one hand rest on the back of my thigh. The other is on my chest, teasing me with his now rough hands (thanks to set and filming). I've locked one hand in his hair, the other around his back, and focus on tasting him as I meet his tongue and my toes curl from his kisses.

This is the slowest we've ever taken things, I swear. Hell, our underwear is still on, and that never lasts to the bed anymore. 

But after a few minutes of that, he pushes me over, rolling on top of me with a final kiss before breaking back again, moving to my jawline and trailing soft kisses down my neck.

"Lay back and relax," he requests kindly, murmuring against my skin before he attaches his lips to my chest, one side at a time and teases me.

His hands are running down my arms, my hands in his hair, as he lowers himself, and after a few minutes of soft, feathery kisses down my stomach and puppy dog eyes shoot up at me as I watch him tug my underwear down. His mouth follows, and I watch him go until he focuses on the heat between my legs.

He isn't shy about watching me as he lets his tongue work over me, but I can't hold that gaze. Partly because it's awkward but also partly because he knows what he's doing and I'm immediately left without air and my eyes closed, mouth parted as he goes. I feel like I'm being too quiet tonight, but the hush is good for the mood. Apparently he thinks so, too, because after a minute or two I think whimper just a little as he pushes me to my edge, and that's when he lets his finger replace his tongue and he kisses my thigh instead, chuckling lightly at my reaction.

"Lord, do I love watching you squirm," he teases.

"Bobby-" I try on a breath, but my brow's pressed together in concentration. 

"Let go, Rach," he requests.

So I bite my lip and let out another quiet moan, and soon after he's pushed me over the edge, making me lift my head from the pillow in a silent scream of pleasure.

"Looks like you liked that," he laughs lightly, giving another kiss to my leg before sliding himself back up my body.

"You've raised the bar today for sure," I laugh, but then wind up pulling him down to kiss him slowly, hands running down and cupping him.

He's already hard though, no doubt, so I hook my fingers in his boxers and tug them down next, him helping shift them past his knees before pressing his body back down against mine. 

I swear he fits perfectly. He covers me perfectly, he fits my curves perfectly, he lines up height wise with me perfectly. It's always been like this, not awkward, not uncomfortable... I should've known, right? Should've realized that meant something.

And even the rest of the night, as he watches my eyes as he pushes into me, as he breathes into my neck as he grabs my hand intertwines our fingers so he can squeeze it on the pillow next to me....even then, I'm just realizing how fucking beautiful this is. Is that sappy? Probably. But when he ducks his head into my shoulder, I turn my head to the side, watching his hand flex in mine as he nears his edge...watching the ring sparkle in the moonlight coming through the windows. 

It's silent the rest of the night. He plays with my hair after he cleans us up, my head on his chest and his arm around me. He's leaving lazy kisses on my forehead and in my hair, taking deep breaths and enjoying the soft cuddle. And I fall asleep peacefully...feeling like a huge weight is off my shoulders. 

Which it is...until I wake up from sleeping like a rock with no dreams, just a deep, heavy sleep, and find an actual weight on my shoulder. 

Despite falling asleep on his chest, I wake up on my back, his head resting on my shoulder, and his arm over my stomach. He's cuddled up with his knees bent like a child, and it's actually the cutest thing I have ever seen.

So I take my hand, the one that's not currently under him somewhere, and lift it to run it through his hair, sleepily feeling the softness I adore while I wake up. He's snoring slightly, his breath warm on my skin, so I don't want to wake him. But I do want to take this in... Yeah, I've been back for a week, but he's been busy. Most nights I've fallen asleep before he's gotten into bed. And I have no idea what time it is right now, but I just want to lay in bed with him for a little longer.

But in the dim daylight shining through the windows, I focus on the stone on my hand again. It shines and sparkles and this is the first real look I've gotten of it, aside from that moment during his speech. It's beautiful...detailed and custom fit to represent him. The diamond in the center is much bigger than anything I ever anticipated, but he didn't over do it. It's delicate, not bulky, and he knew exactly what he was doing when he picked the silver band. I guess he took note that I usually wore silver long ago, given all the jewelry he's given me was silver, too.

But it still doesn't seem real. It seems so foreign, like it isn't mine. Like I should be taking it off to give back to someone. But no, he bought this for me. He bought this for me. It's mine. It's his gesture to ensure I know he's here for good. This ring is gonna be on my finger for every year to come. And that...that overwhelms me.

"Holy shit..." I breathe, a whisper.

But it winds up waking him up anyway...sort of. He grunts, tone raspy and deep and still mostly asleep, and he doesn't stir.

"Hmm?"

"There's a fucking diamond ring on my hand..." I exhale, staring at it with the same awe I was just minutes ago.

"I know, I put it there," he mumbles back, yawning shortly after.

"Fuck..." I curse under my breath, convinced this was gonna go away in the morning. "It really wasn't a dream..."

"Don't sound so excited," he huffs instead, stretching but falling back into place with his body pinning me down as he tries to sleep.

"I am," I promise. "I...you proposed..."

With that, he chuckles and then rolls over onto his back, rubbing sleep from his eyes before glancing back at me. "Not a bad thing to wake up to."

"Not at all," I sigh, then roll over to face him. "Can I ask you a question or are you still asleep?"

He blinks slowly, lips tugging up in a bigger smile as he hugs his pillow and turns toward me. "I'm sleepy but not asleep."

I smirk, biting my lip as I watch his chocolate eyes. They're too pretty, behind those dark lashes over his cheeks. I don't know what on Earth I did to deserve this, but now I get to wake up to them every day from now until..forever.

"Don't you have to work?" I ask, forgetting my real question.

"That's the big question?" he laughs. "I have a couple days before I'm headed back to LA. You coming back with me?"

"Yes," I agree quickly on a whisper again. "I have a couple weeks before I have studio time... Everyone needs a vacation..." Then my hand fidgets with the edge of the decorative pillow he's got in his arms, playing with it subconsciously. "You said you weren't planning on asking last night...so what changed your mind?"

He watches me for a minute, thinking I guess, then, "I dunno. You were okay on your own, you accept me for my weird flaws, my sexuality complications... I just never thought I'd find someone who understood me. Or someone I wanted to understand more than myself. So...you were cold, and I went back to get you that hoodie, and the box was in the drawer with it, so... I just had a burst of confidence, having you back on set."

Then he grunts and stretches again, releasing the pillow and pulling me toward him. His light laughter makes me heart soar as he pulls me in for a kiss, smiling against my lips. His warmth radiates through me, and I never want to let him go.

But he does eventually, tucking my hair behind my ear. 

"So, whatcha thinking?" he asks. "Summer wedding, winter wedding?"

I suck in a breath, back to biting my lip. "We're really gonna do this, huh?"

"Duh! You said yes, didn't you? So that means...we're gonna get married, and have a family, and live a very, very interesting life together.

Interesting, yeah, that's the word. Definitely.

But he catches onto my hesitation, probably cause of the family remark, so he cups my cheek and blows air in my face like a child. Good Lord, what did I get myself into?

"What's up?" he presses after I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment.

Forming a small, white lie, I smirk again, recovering from that thought. "How about a spring wedding?"

"Spring?" he questions. "Like next spring, or the one after? Cause next spring is pretty soon."

"It is..." I agree, sighing. "Um...well I don't wanna wait forever... Summer? But the weather's so hot..."

"You forget we can literally afford to get married anywhere you want..." he reminds me. "Anywhere in the world."

"How about late summer...we can go north."

"Cali?"

"Maybe..."

"So...September? August?"

"Next year," I agree. "We'll get married next summer..."

"That..." he huffs happily, "...is a date."

"It's technically a wedding," I tease. "If you wanted a date, you don't need to ask with a ring."

"Smart ass this morning, are we?" he laughs, showing his perfect teeth that make my heart ache.

And it aches for a different reason, too, as I shove his chest playfully with my left hand. Again, my focus is on that damn ring. And it's not a bad thing. And like, sorry, I guess? Cause I'm really into the idea that I'm wearing a fucking engagement ring, I know...but I can't process it no matter how hard I try.

My smile fades as I think, and it worries him, I suppose. He grabs my hand, toying with the ring in his fingers, lips twitching in his own thoughts.

"You can't leave..." I squeak out in a hush, suddenly emotional...though I'm trying to hold it in.

He's silent, listening as he lets me speak my mind, which I appreciate.

"You can't..." I start, then exhale, frustrated. "If I marry you, you can't leave. You can't ditch me. I won't be able to take that."

"Rach-"

But I cut him off before he can protest. "People always leave, Downey, and I am trusting you with my heart right now. I want you to have it, but you know how hard the idea of marriage has been for me... So you can't-"

"Honey!" he hushes me, speaking over my rant. "I know."

So I swallow down my words, letting him have his turn. 

"The marriage might not be legal until we tie the knot, but this commitment started the day I ordered that ring. I'm not going anywhere, Rachel Downey."

I stare at him, unable to comprehend. Did he just drop a name change on me? Before it was a joke, but now he's so serious...

"That's not my name yet..." I remind him gently, and he licks his lips in amusement.

"Yet. Soon...give or take twelve or thirteen months..." He's adamant it's going to happen.

"You want me to take your last name?" I ask dumbly. "For real?"

His eyebrow lifts, apparently confused. "I told you ages ago, back at your grandmother's-"

"As a joke!"

"And now there's a ring on your finger," he giggles. "Not a joke anymore."

"Oh...kay... I..." I stammer, not sure of what to say. 

Yes, it sounds nice. Yes, I like it. But my album and my music is all under Thomas. My life is under Thomas, my career is under Thomas... If I just change it, is it okay? 

"Just think about it," he requests. "I won't be upset if you choose not to, but I if you want my opinion...I think you should take it."

"Take mine, then," I shoot back, being a little shit to harass him lightly.

"Okay," he shrugs.

"Really?"

"No!" he huffs dramatically, playing the part. "I'm Iron Man, Iron Man doesn't change his last name."

"You're ridiculous," I giggle.

And then my phone buzzes from the somewhere on the floor, probably still in the pocket of my hoodie I was wearing. 

"And I should get that," I sigh. "It's probably Devin, I told her I'd let her know if I'm staying with you here..."

"Fineee..." he groans, deciding to toss off the sheets with me, despite the two of us having nothing on. "You take that, I'm gonna go to Starbucks. Want anything?"

"Just a coffee," I request as I grab my underwear and the hoodie to put back on. "Thank you."

"Love you," he tells me after he dresses himself and I retrieve my phone, leaving a kiss on my forehead. "Be back in a few."

"Be safe," I request, then sit on the edge of the bed, redialing Devin after I missed her call. "Hey," I start when she answers. "I'm sorry, I was still in bed..."

"It's almost noon," she teases, and I roll my eyes.

"You know I'm never up early..."

"I know you probably banged his brains out all night last night as a thank you for that diamond," she answers as if it's nothing, forcing a gasp out of me, followed by heat rising to my cheeks as I tug the hoodie over my shoulder.

"Dev!"

But she giggles, moving on. 

"So hey, if I stop over are you and your husband decent?" she asks, nonchalantly teasing.

Husband. Wow. That's...different. Good different, but something is so surreal about that word.

"Yeah, you can...yeah... We're not married yet," I remind her with a further blush.

"You will be soon. Told you you'd be a Downey sooner or later."

"I...I don't even know if I'm changing my name," I mumble, realizing this is going to be the conversation I'll be having with everyone now.

"Why not? That name's literally worth billions!" she points out. "Do I have to put some sense into that brain of yours?!"

I roll my eyes at her instead and decide to go back to her question. "What do you need?"

"Uh, got a list of big things to run by you. Appearances and whatever. Tour was hectic so I have till next week to get back to them on this stuff, then I'll start my vacation."

"It can't wait?"

"Not unless you're turning them down, and trust me...this shit's pretty big. You don't wanna turn it down."

"Okay," I sigh. "Yeah, stop over whenever... It's just me right now, Bobby's-"

"At Starbucks, I know," she interrupts. "I was kidding earlier. Bitch is getting me a latte, so I'll be on my way soon."

I blink, confused. "What?"

"He offered," she laughs into the receiver. "He sent out a group message to Jim and I yesterday when he decided on the proposal, asked us to make sure we had the cameras ready. Guess it's a thing now."

"Huh..." I offer, not expecting that. "So you guys all have a thing..."

"Well, it had to be a secret, Rach."

"I know, but-" I start, actually kind of...bothered. 

"Do you want me to add you?" she asks and I can hear the roll of her eyes. "You two are inseparable, so we figured if we get one of you we get both of you."

"He's not with me right now," I point out.

"Okay, okay, I'll add you! Just no sex talk, Jim and I don't wanna hear it..." she mumbles.

My phone buzzes and I glance at the screen after lifting it from my ear noting she added me to their little thing, but something else is on my mind.

"What's with this 'Jim' thing?" I ask, putting on my own detective mode.

"Uh, just a nickname," she states slowly. 

"Uh huh... Is that also why you two stayed at the party last night?"

"No," she defends. "Rach, you had just gotten engaged. We were giving you privacy."

"This isn't you," I answer carefully. "I know you, and I know you're usually all up in my business, especially with something like this. Spill."

"We'll talk about it later."

"Devin-"

"Rachel. I want my latte first."

So I narrow my eyes to myself, not awake enough for this even though I have a feeling I know where this is going.

"Fine. See you soon."


	114. Chapter 114

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So this is just a small original version of something already posted. How the London fake marriage proposal scene originally was.
> 
> I was trying to write, but I am SO tired. So there probably won't be an update until tomorrow. ...So I felt like leaving this. Just so you have something.
> 
> I spent all weekend traveling. I drove to NYC from Pitt to see my two favs and we had a Downey-filled weekend! Friday we all met and had fun with photos together. Saturday we spent the ENTIRE day outside in NYC in the brutal cold and wind. One of my Taylor friends came out and took us to meet a cosplay friend at Bethesda Terrace (original Avengers ending location) and I got some really cool Pepperony photos with him...he looks like RDJ I swear! If you want to see them, check out my IG... And got some good news that I can't share but you'll find out eventually. I wound up driving home for NINE HOURS in the SNOW through the MOUNTAINS... Good Lord, it was awful! Made a half hour lunch stop at my grandmother's half way.
> 
> Anyway...enjoy this random small fluff and hope you're not mad that I haven't updated lol.

*****ORIGINAL BONUS SCENE - not new content!*****

 

 

"Are you ready yet?" I sigh, waiting for him to finish getting dressed for our anniversary dinner reservation.

"Almost," he nearly sings, and then he wanders out in full suit, hat included.

I can't help but laugh when he exits the trailer, bag in hand for our night at home instead. I shake my head, grabbing his hat and removing it from his head when he approaches and swings the bag into the back seat.

"What is this?!" I grin, teasing him.

"A relic from Holmes," he admits. Then, in a British accent, "completes the outfit, wouldn't you say, miss?"

"I reckon it might look better on me..." I tease, making him burst out in laughter.

"They're British, not southern!" he howls, making me blush.

"It still looks better on me," I snap playfully, grinning ear to ear as I hold it on top of my head. "It makes you look too formal."

"So maybe I was taking you dancing," he protests, arms across his chest.

"You?" I joke. "You haven't danced a day in your life."

He frowns. "We danced at the benefit."

"Two years ago," I remind him.

"No," he protests, pressing his brow together as he thinks. "Are you sure?"

I nod, removing the hat and setting it in the front seat of the car. "Formal dancing, anyway... Our schedules just haven't matched up for anything else."

He watches me for a moment, then takes my hand and pulls me a few feet from the car, placing his free one on my hip and taking the not so familiar pose.

"So dance with me right now."

"Robert!" I giggle as he pulls me to him and sways in a circle. "We're gonna miss our reservation!"

He smirks, eyes watching me carefully. "They'll hold it for us."

I blush, forgetting the power we have in these types of situations. I don't like to abuse it, but he's right...

"There's no music," I point out and he grins.

"So sing something!"

"I don't...I-"

As if saving me, I suddenly feel a cool chill of water droplets hitting my bare back from the night sky, drizzling down before the clouds open up and it starts to pour. Robert whines, obviously upset, but I can't help but giggle as my hair and dress start to soak through.

"Are you kidding?!" Robert yells at the sky, blinking rain from his eyes as he looks up. "It's California, it never rains here! I'm so sorry, babe...shit, this was supposed to be perfect, I had it all planned out..."

"It's just an anniversary," I point out, not bothered at all.

I'm smiling widely, looking up and letting the rain land on my face, detaching from Robert and letting my arms out wide. I laugh out loud, letting then water drop off my eyelids and nose when I finally look back down, meeting Robert's gaze. He's no longer upset...in fact, he's slowly widening his own grin as he watches me softly.

"What?!" I chuckle, "afraid of a little rain?!"

He scrunches up his face and tugs off his suit jacket and lays it on the roof of the car, then roughly shakes his head, the water weighing it down splattering everywhere as it continues to rain. "Nope, are you?"

He watches as I spin around, dancing alone in the downpour, and then I finally wind up in his arms, leaning into him as I laugh in enjoyment. I sigh when he wraps his arms, sticking to his wet dress shirt, around me in a small hug. Then when I let my hands wander to his soaked chest, I look up at him and bite my lip at his adorable expression. He's content...happy. His eyes are soft and their chocolate depths are glimmering with amusement as he takes in how happy I look...and God knows why, I'm just in a good mood, I guess.

"Marry me," he offers suddenly, quietly, catching me off guard.

My smile fades slowly as my breath catches and I narrow my eyes slightly, trying to read him.

"What?!"

He doesn't falter. "Marry me, Rach," he repeats. "I wanted to wait cause don't have a ring or a speech prepared or anything...but you are absolutely stunning and you have no idea how in love I am with you. Every laugh, every light hearted, beautiful moment... I think just realized I want dance in the rain with you forever. So let's just...let's get married."

I watch as he lets his forehead lean against mine, and then he's breathing steady as the rain continues, holding his arms around me still as he waits for an answer.

And something inside me speaks on its own, without even a second thought. "Okay," I whisper.

"Really?!" he asks, apparently shocked by my answer.

I nod, lifting a hand to trace his wet face. Then I bring him down for a kiss, my lips pressing against his as the water continues to pour, a clash of thunder somewhere in the background. I feel him trace my lower lip with his tongue, delicate but desperate, and I give in, altering the angle of our kiss after I briefly part and reclaim him. Neither one of us give the water even a second thought at this point.

When he breaks it off, he smiles gently, one hand moving to cup my cheek.

"I'll do this the right way when I get you a ring," he promises. "In front of everyone, I swear, so they all know."

I smile, happier and calmer than ever. "You really wanna get married?"

"I do," he swallows, nodding against me. "I'd marry you right now if I could."

I huff out a laugh and run my hands up to his wet hair, closing my eyes. "Let's just keep it between us for now."

He nods again, agreeing. "Like a promise...but I'm still surprising you with a proper proposal. I'm gonna get you the perfect ring and I'm gonna get down on one knee and everything...the whole package."

I kiss him quickly again, then hug him tightly, whispering in his ear. "None of that matters," I reassure. "As long as you're serious."

"Very," he confirms quietly. "Happy anniversary, Mrs Downey..."

"Mmm, I like the sound of that," I tease, a playful hint in my eyes when I release him. "What do ya say we dry off and seal the deal?"

He groans, cracking his jaw. "But dinner-"

"We can go out tomorrow."


	115. Chapter 115

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just some fluff. Sorry if this sucks. I've been falling asleep writing this like every night... Also a little short, but I'll do better this weekend when I actually have time to focus.

"Don't freak out, but I need a yes or a no on all of these."

A big packet of papers lands on the table in front of me right before Devin takes a seat at the dining room table. The dark wood of it is nice against the white stack, but it's intimidating. There's definitely a good ten pages or so.

"Are these all events?!" I gasp, picking the top one up, and she nods.

"Some are his. Need to figure out what you two are going to. You have downtime now, besides studio work, until you decide on a date for a follow up album-"

"A..." I start, swallowing and looking at her with wide eyes. "A what?!"

She narrows her own, studying me. "You are working on a second album, aren't you?"

"I...haven't thought about it," I admit. "I, uh... The tour just wrapped, and I have a wedding to plan, and-"

"Sounds like you're gonna be busy," she shrugs, sitting back. "So tell me what you're attending and what you're not."

I blink, then drop my eyes back down to the packet. There's a general list on top, one made up of everything of mine in bold and everything of Robert's in plain text. The Toronto Film Festival again in September...A New York City convention and the AMA's in October. The New York Film Critics Circle Awards and the People's Choice Awards in November. Then a packed full December. The LA Film Critics Association Awards, the Golden Globe Nominations, that con again in Pittsburgh. The BAFTA Awards and the Golden Globes in January, and then the Grammys and Oscars in February, the iHeartRadio Awards in March. There's the Chef premiere in May and San Diego Comic Con in June of next year, and various Halloween, holiday, and birthday parties for our friends, as well as several of Goop's events and my family's parties and TV appearances.

"Oh...kay..." I stammer. "Do you need an answer right now? This is kind of a lot..."

I honestly feel overwhelmed. Most of these are Robert's, or just me making appearances for little things like a performance or a presentation... But there's so much to do and I'm suddenly feeling more busy than the tour.

"I need an answer on both Comic Cons, Fallon for next month, Ellen for the month after, and the AMA's and Grammys now," she tells me, typing on her phone while she waits.

Whens she sits it back down on the table, I glance at her, confused. 

"For what, presentations, or...?"

"Well if you'd read the packet..." she sighs, but answers anyway. "You have potential for two Grammy noms, three AMA's. A performance of the new single we dropped last month on Fallon and Ellen wants an interview about the AMA noms once they announce them. Oh, and the engagement. But Robert's got a photo shoot that day, so unless you can change his mind-"

I guess I'm silent, because all I hear is my own heart beating wildly. My first album, my first tour..and all of this?!

"That can't be right," I argue.

But Devin's just laughing. "Maybe you've been too focused on the tour, Rach, but your album topped at number two. It's getting a shit ton of attention, and the new single's already charting. This isn't some little side gig anymore..you're famous, on your own, and now that you're going to be married into an even more famous family-"

"August," I remember, sitting back up and flipping wildly through the papers for the calendar list. "What's scheduled in August?!"

"Well, technically nothing yet," she answers, confusion heavy on her voice. "It's a little too far into the calendar year...but probably a couple conventions and film festivals near Labor Day, and we'll have to get you back to photos and promos if we do a fall album drop, and planning a tour doesn't happen overnight, so-"

"I need a Saturday," I tell her, my eyes nearly begging as I land my finger on one weekend. "The uh...the ninth. Can we leave the ninth open?"

She nods slowly. "What for?"

I open my mouth to answer, but then Robert's bursting through the front door, whistling loudly. He tosses his sunglasses on the counter after catching our attention, and then he's hopping down the small set of stairs from the kitchen to the dining room area to hand out coffee.

"Madam," he bids in an English accent before handing the one latte over to Devin...and then the coffee to myself. "My love."

"Are you okay?" I laugh, forgetting the stress of the planning on the table as I look up at him.

He's beaming down at me, his dark eyes shining. "Fucking awesome, I got free coffee. Wedding coffee!" he celebrates.

"Engagement coffee," I giggle, correcting him and putting the cup to my lips for a sip.

"Same thing," he shrugs. "What's all this?"

"This is your crazy as fuck life on paper," Devin informs him. "I need to get her schedule in."

He smirks, leaning over me to inspect, and I bite my lip as I take in his fresh scent, probably from deodorant he tossed on from lack of shower this morning. 

"Welcome to the big leagues," he celebrates with humor, but I'm focused on how fucking good he looks, despite getting up and heading straight to the store after a long night of sex.

"August ninth," I tell him, staring at his side profile.

But then he turns his eyes toward me again and raises an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"August ninth," I repeat. "What do you think?"

"I think...that's a Saturday?"

"Uh huh," I agree with a grin. "And in the summer... What do you think?"

"Of..." Sometimes he's not that sharp.

I sigh. "Getting married. On August ninth."

"August ninth, twenty fourteen?" he asks, pressing his lips together to glance at the calendar one more time. "That's less than a year away."

I frown for a second, watching his steady face, worried that maybe he wants to wait longer? ...until he grabs my hand that's holding onto the sheet and lifts it to his lips, kissing the ring gently. His beard tickles against my knuckles, but he smiles softly after, his eyes dancing.

"What are you thinking?" I ask.

"That on August ninth, you are going to officially be my wife, Rachel Marie Downey."

I want to embrace this soft moment. I bite my lip, giddy at the mention of being his 'wife'. But Devin has other plans...including clearing her throat and groaning.

"Okay, save it for later." Then she taps the table again. "Rach, yes or no."

I wind up having to give her an answer on those few things, agreeing to them for now. Then she lets us have the day again, after Robert's gone to do a charity call for a couple kids and check in with Jon, who's expecting him in LA soon. I stop listening and start scrolling through Twitter when she starts bickering with me because I ask her about what the hell is going on between her and Jimmy. 

"We're friends, relax," she insists...I'll get to the bottom of it eventually.

Anyway...Twitter's full of congratulations, and Instagram's just as crazy, thanks to the photo Jimmy posted on Robert's page of the two of us. It's cute and the ring is perfectly on display.

I want to interact with the internet, but right now, I'm getting kind of emotional now that I've had time alone. A lot of shit has happened in this last week... A lot of good shit, but it's still...a lot. And never have I ever thought I deserve a second of it.

So I take myself to the bedroom to take a shower, needing it after last night. Robert's still on a call or something in his office, so I don't bother him.

But showering alone isn't as peaceful as I thought it would be. I mean, it is...but it's also my breaking point. It's my first alone time since tour, which wasn't that long ago, but it's also my first alone time to process things. 

I'm engaged. And no matter how long I stare at the ring on my finger as the water runs down my arm and drips from it in the steamy bathroom, it doesn't seem real. Yes, I've gotten used to the idea of marriage, and of course I agreed because I want to. But like...I'm marrying him. How the hell did this happen?!

And on top of that, Devin's news about the awards. About being interviewed. About the biggest convention in the world wanting me, alongside Robert, to appear. Two years ago I was just planning my trip to LA, and it turns out...it was the decision that changed my damn life.

Is it silly that remembering that stuff makes me tear up? Because it does. Remembering the way his dark eyes analyzed me as I tried to play it cool at the cookie table at my cousin's wedding. Remembering the kiss he left on my cheek that lingered before returning to his own hotel room in New York after I left the restaurant. His lips on mine when he attacked me at the Atlanta hotel. The many, many times he teased me about knowing he wants to marry me. Good Lord, it isn't fair.

After a moment, I find myself sinking to the shower floor, just wanting to cry like the weirdo I am. I guess I needed this few minutes of alone time, because it's the first few minutes of quietness I've had, too. No thinking about the ridiculous amount of work I have to do now to start a new album, or answering the fans, or planning the wedding... Just the sound of water hitting the floor. And...my own silent sniffles as I let the hot water hit my back and I sit, hugging my knees to my chest.

It's only a few minutes, but then there's a knock at the door, and I hiccup, silencing myself.

"Hey hon, wanna get dinner with Gyll? You know, from-"

"I know who Gyllenhaal is," I answer after clearing my voice. "Tonight?"

"Yup!" he sings back happily, unaware that I'm a mess right now. "Just caught up, he's in town for the weekend."

"Uh..." I sigh, wiping my eyes and turning the water off after standing. "What time is it?"

"Only one," his smooth voices carries through the door as I grab a towel and wrap it around myself.

"He's in Atlanta?" I question, quickly dabbing at my hair with another towel. "Why?"

"Passing through, seeing family."

"Okay..." I sigh again. "Yeah, we can go. Just, uh..." I grab the door handle opening the door in just my towel. "Let me get myself together and-"

But he's leaning against the door frame, and I nearly bump into him without looking, which scares me half to death. I stumble and halt myself in the doorway before I end up smashing my face into his chest, and he smirks down at me.

"Wet and naked, what did I do to deserve this?" he teases.

I roll my eyes, pushing past him to head to the walk in closet, so he follows, hot on my trail. He grabs a jacket on the way in, apparently chilly in the air conditioned room, and waits patiently as I pick out clothes.

"You're not fangirling," he observes, folding his arms over his chest. "Isn't he super dreamy to all you girls?"

"No, that's you," I hum, half listening as I try to steady what's left of my emotions with one hand...the other clutching my towel to make sure I'm covered, though I don't know why...he's seen everything.

He moves on, though I'm not sure if it's a good or a bad thing. Apparently he wants to talk today.

"You've never actually fangirled on me," he realizes out loud. 

"That's not true."

"A couple times, maybe. Just saying you can't believe it's me."

"That is true," I answer lightly, finally picking out a shirt. "I still can't."

"You're in my closet, wearing my engagement ring, and you're still confused?" he taunts, and that's when I turn toward him with a raised eyebrow, slightly amused but trying not to appear to it. "Your eyes are red."

Of course, he observes that much.

Exhaling slowly, I feel my cheeks heat up and force a smile, clearing my head. But Robert's more concerned, standing straight and reaching out to run his hands up and down my arms as I old his gaze. His eyes narrow, questioning me without words, and it almost hurts, because I definitely don't want him thinking this was a bad thing. 

"I'm just overwhelmed," I promise. "Devin just told me I'll probably be nominated for the Grammys."

As you should be," he states as if it's no big deal. "Congrats. Excited?"

"Yes," I breathe. "And scared. I...I don't know. A couple years ago I was just dreaming of this, and now I have a charting album, and I might win my first award for something I wrote." I close my eyes, shaking my head. "It just doesn't feel real."

"So...happy tears," he offers.

I nod, smiling for real. "Just adjusting to all of this news."

"You know," he muses, focused on a spot behind me in the closet as he thinks...it's a thing he does often, honestly. "This time you'll actually have to stick around for the end of the show in case you win."

He's teasing me. After last year and how I tried to ditch, it's obvious. But that was also under different circumstances.

"Just don't break up with me and I'll stay in my seat," I toss back.

He fake gasps, his perfect jaw dropping. "You dumped me, if I remember correctly!"

I feel my lip twitch as I remember that whole ordeal. The first drug incident. The heartbreak over that month and some time. The way he practically begged me to come back. It was silly and dramatic and I was lost the entire time, I swear. 

So I lean into his chest, holding my towel up still, and rest my head under his chin. His strong arms find their way around me, and I take a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say. Do I apologize? I already have. Do I move on or talk about the awards again?

Thankfully, he continues first. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

Oh, did I say thankfully? My bad.

It's a simple question, but I hesitate for some stupid reason. Not because I'm actually having second thoughts, but because...I don't know. Maybe just the stuff I've been thinking about? The same reason I've been crying.

"No," I whisper back. "But you know me. I just...don't get this kind of luck. So now that everything's falling into place..."

"You don't want to argue, right?" he laughs lightly. "Maybe don't finish that thought."

"Bobby," I groan playfully. "Seriously. Someone wants to marry me. Do you understand how fucking insane that is?"

"Really?" he asks, sounding fake shocked. "Who is he? Where's he at, we gotta talk about boundaries."

"It's you, moron!"

"That's stepping over the line, trying to steal another man's girl," he continues.

I squirm in his hold, trying to push off of him, but he only lets me lift my head. But that's okay, because his soft eyes are playful and happy and relaxed and I am more than happy looking at them...even their little spots of darker brown under his pupils.

"I'm marrying you," I state as though it's the first time I've realized it. "A fucking movie star that I never thought I'd even get to meet. And you told me you wanted to marry me a year ago, and I said no, and now here we are...your..."

I lift my hand to inspect the ring again, shoulders dropping with a blissful exhale. He giggles his high pitched laugh and watches, apparently still amused.

"My engagement ring on your finger? Yeah, I said that already." He smirks. "I also told you you never fan girl, so is that what's happening here? Because you know, my ego could use it sometimes."

"Your ego needs deflated sometimes," I correct in good humor. 

"I'm just saying, you could watch one or two of my movies every now and then...or just tell me your favorite character. Or-" he rants.

I cut him off before he can go too far. "You know I love Tony! And we just watched Ally!"

"I'd like to know who I'm marrying!" he pouts dramatically. "Come on, tell me how much you love me."

I blink, remembering this is why I love him. He's so fucking normal sometimes, even if he's got a cocky head full of air on those shoulders when he has down time. 

"I already said yes! That should be enough."

He frowns, sticking out his lower lip, so I lean up and kiss him softly, enjoying the feeling of his warm lips as they wipe away any of that weird moment of too much in my head from a few minutes earlier. This is comfortable. This banter, this warmth. This is going to be okay. Stressful, but okay.

And then it dawns on me...the reason I liked the smell of his deodorant earlier. The reason I can even smell it all. So I run my hands up his shoulders and around his neck, tugging softly at the hair on his neck out of habit, not caring if the towel falls out of its hold anymore.

"You haven't smoked at all since I got back..." I notice.

He smiles proudly back, and it actually warms my heart, because he's damn happy I noticed. "Quit while you were away."

"Quit?" I repeat stupidly, and he nods. "Like quit quit?"

"For good," he confirms, then fist pumps into the air like the weirdo that he is.

Of course, it makes me laugh, licking my lips as I glance down at the ground and then back up, enjoying this weird burst of happiness he's had today.

 

"And you've been so chipper and energetic..." I muse, watching his free spirit.

"That's what happens when I'm happy and stress free," he grins back. "Focused on work and it made quitting smoking a little more tolerable. And kept me busy so I wasn't missing you...though that didn't help much. But we did good while you were away, didn't we?"

"We did," I sigh in agreement, admitting he's right and we definitely did get along. 

No fight, no issues. Plenty of messages, plenty of phone calls... His surprise visits, his gifts in the dressing rooms before the shows. But it also reminds me of all the issues we had the last time, when we barely talked.

"Do you think we're ready for this?" I ask gently, and he cracks his jaw, studying me.

"What?"

"Marriage...being a family..." I mumble awkwardly; whether or not there's kids involved, the two of us will be a family, either way. "I mean...I didn't know you were feeling stressed before, and I know it was because of me, so-"

"Did I say that?"

"The break up, the drugs," I remind him. "The tour."

"I'm busy, too, you know," he answers plainly. "And I made some mistakes, as well."

I shake my head in self loathing, really. "But I didn't realize what it was doing to you... I don't really know this hyperactive, creative side of you."

"Yes you do," he argues, but I don't hear it.

"What else don't I know?"

Sniffling, he takes a breath, then rests his fiery eyes on me. "Believe it or not, you know me better than you think. I'm not only the guy I am for interviews and movies, honey. Half of that is for show."

"But-"

"It's like your stage presence. That confidence, and then you come backstage and tell me what you're feeling. And guess what, I might not be familiar with that side of you, either, but I know more about you than you might think."

I press my brow together, annoyed that he's so good at making these analogies. "Like what?"

"Like..how you roll your shoulders before each song on stage, no matter how many you've already played. Or how you always pull on your right sleeve before the left when you put on a shirt," he smirks, noting the shirt I previously set aside. "Or...how you play with my hair when you're feeling vulnerable because it's something familiar and it keeps you grounded."

I blush at that, my hands freezing because he's right; even now, I'm toying with the hair at the base of his neck, just that small amount that curls up at the end. This damn man knows my habits, and he knows them well.

"Just like you pointed out my jaw crack during that interview a few weeks back. You know more than you say you do," he follows up with.

I nod slightly, feeling a little overwhelmed again, but comforted at the same time because he's right.

"We're ready for this," I decide quietly, lips tugging up.

"Yeah?" he asks, happy with himself. "And I'm ready for this towel to come off, so..."

He reaches down, tugging it to the floor with one pinch, and I yelp a little when the cool air hits my body. But he only smirks, leaning down to capture my lips in a kiss full of sparks.

Something fuels me as he kisses me. Maybe the fact that I'm realizing I really am marrying my best friend...besides Devin, of course...and maybe it's just that I'm marrying him, and that ring on my finger's feeling much more normal now with a date in mind. But either way, when he lets his tongue slip across my lower lip in polite request for entrance to my mouth, I smile against his kiss and pull him further into the closet with me, pressing my body fully against him until he grunts and takes the hint, hands reaching the small of my back and holding me against him so there's no wiggle room. 

And just like my hands in his hair...the way he touches me is comfortable. It's familiar. And it's mine.


	116. Chapter 116

"We gotta stop doing this after I shower," I breathe, buttoning up the shirt I've grabbed off the closet floor. "Defeats the purpose."

As much as I hate the fact that I feel like I need another shower now, I don't hate that fact that we just had sex in our closet, the first besides that delicate intimacy last night. This was fun, this was happy, and this...this was a good reminder for me for why we're getting married. I'm comfortable with him, regardless of the last name I'll take. Yeah, it's fucking crazy and mind blowing to me that it's him, I'll never get tired of that. But it's the guy I feel safe with, and that's what matters. Time to start being more confident about this.

"It's not my fault you're always traipsing around the house half naked," he argues, his hair a disheveled mess as he tugs a shirt over his head.

My eyes are stuck on his abs as he does so, watching them flex before he covers them, and then I blink slowly, clearing my head.

"I had a towel on!" I remind him.

He only smirks, running a hand through his hair to smooth it out. "And I took it off."

"Okay, good, you're not senile yet," I joke, and I know it sets him off. "I'm glad you can still remember things."

"Do we need to go another round?" he snaps back with a playful glare. "Call me old one more time."

I only giggle, shaking my head with amusement as I finish dressing and make my way to exit the closet. "Relax, Mr Downey...you were fantastic, as always."

I whisper it as I trail a hand up his chest as he's pulling on a pair of pants and he narrows his eyes at me, watching with a held breath. He's reading the game I'm playing, I know he is, but it's okay. I love this fun nonsense between us. I'm glad we can make fun of each other in a healthy way and both take it. It makes the relationship fun.

"The claw marks on my back might suggest that," he agrees with a steady hold of my eyes, watching me blush.

Yes, I have a habit of letting my hands roam his shoulders, so what?

But he leans down with a soft laugh to whisper in my ear next. "I like a little pain," he tells me before kissing my cheek and standing up right. "And I like seeing you gasp my name with your head back against the wall and your legs-"

"Okay!" I yelp, shoving his shoulder and heading out to the bedroom, hands in the air in defeat. "Okay, point taken."

I can hear his laughter behind me as he fishes out a pair of shoes from the shelf, but it doesn't make me any less embarrassed. "Take your time, dinner's not till six!"

I spend the next few hours doing makeup to make myself presentable and mask my still semi red eyes, and then relax in the office while he's on his laptop in the living room. It's an off day, so he isn't working much. Just charity stuff, and whatever else he's up to creatively until we head out. He's probably just now contacting his parents and sister to let them know the news, too.

I'm just engrossed in social media for the first time since tour. I haven't posted an official announcement yet, but there's a lot going on on my phone so I'd rather just use the desktop computer. So, on one screen I have Twitter and Instagram up, the web browser in the other looking at news articles. Devin posted a video on my story, I guess, but that's it aside from Robert's live stream, which has since disappeared from his story. 

They're mostly kind, except for a few complaints about my age and a couple people who are just full on angry that he's not available anymore. I mean...it's fine. I expected as much. 

But today I kind of want to avoid the fan arguments, so I switch to the tab of just the verified accounts and see what's going on...

I thank the main ones, mostly his friends. Chris, Gwyn, Mark, Don... But then my phone buzzes and I smile when I pick it up, finally reading texts.

GP: If you need a wedding planner, you know where to find me! Welcome to the family, Mrs Downey!

Of course Gwyn would send something sappy like that. And of course I'm going to ask her for her help. I have no idea what I'm doing. Devin does, I guess, and I'll have her help, too, but as for designing things and setting the venue up...I'll gladly let Gwyn's company do that.

There's one from Rob, too, and a missed call...I'll have to call him back later.

RT: congrats!! how's it feel to be engaged?

What a loaded question. And one that I can't answer at the moment, because Aero's jumped into my lap, curling himself into a ball while I'm sitting back.

He's sleepy, I guess, and I feel bad, because we're going to be leaving for dinner soon, but he's my buddy and I will never, ever kick him off of me unless I absolutely have to. Plus, all that time I was on tour and he was with Robert made me miss him more, so I'm glad he's still affectionate toward me.

"What do you think, pretty boy?" I hum, stroking his head.

He purrs lightly, almost chirping, and then tucks his head under my palm on his own, asking for more.

"Are you okay having a new daddy?" I ask, glancing at the diamond again. "You like him, right? You were a good boy while you stayed with him..."

And that's when Robert knocks on the door, making me jump in my seat.

"Just me," he teases, not going to note on the fact that I just referred to him as the cat's new father, I guess. "Ready to head out?"

"Yeah," I answer quickly with a smile.

"Whatcha looking at?" he smirks, glancing at the computer screen with the Google search up. "Iron Man to wed real life Pepper Potts?" he laughs. "That's cheesy."

"Gwyn's the better Pep," I hum back. "Besides, that's better than Downey Jr engaged to former fan," I sigh. "Former? I didn't stop being a fan when we started dating."

"They just want their headline," he informs me, smiling with a pressed lip smile as he leans over me to read the computer screen.

"Did you finish up your stuff?" I ask, admiring his features.

His eyes flicker back to me with warmth. "Just got off the phone with mom, she says hello."

I blink, calm and content to know that he's told them already...so everyone important knows. "Is your dad okay?"

"They're both..surprised," he admits. "But they're in full support of this."

"Really?"

He nods, kissing my head before standing tall again. "I'm gonna go grab some sunglasses and we'll take the Audi, kay?"

"Showing off?" I laugh, and he grins. 

"I want to look nice...this is our first outing as an engaged couple."

"I'll have to change," I sigh, noting the dark blouse and jeans I'm in.

"You look great," he argues. 

But before he can leave to head to the closet, I catch his arm, stopping him. "Wait...I wanna take a photo."

"Of?"

I grab his hand in mine instead, turning it over so I can see the ring, and then hold my phone out, taking a photo to post of my own.

"You got to tell everyone already, so I wanted to put something up, too..." I answer, semi embarrassed. "I just can't get to all of the messages right now."

He just smiles back, then lets me go. He doesn't mind it, which I love. I know he's never been one for the social media stuff but he's been really good with it in the past couple of years. Do I have something to do with that? No idea. Maybe. Probably... But at least he's on it more now.

On the way to dinner, I post it on Instagram and Twitter, happy to finally announce this myself.

@Rachel_Thomas To everyone who's reached out to the both of us today...thank you from the bottom of my heart for the well wishes! We're way too excited to start this next chapter together. I love you @RobertDowneyJr... 8.9.14

He tips the valet nicely when we make it to the city, to an Italian place, fancy but not too fancy. And then he takes my hand and kisses it gently, pressing my ring to his lips, probably for show, but whatever. He ignores any cameras that may have caught on, and then walks us in to meet his buddy. 

Am I nervous about meeting Jake Gyllenhaal? Not really. I should be, so says everyone and my inner fangirl, but that's not my mood. I'm still fangirling over being engaged to Robert Downey Jr right now. Sorry, but that trumps Gyllenhaal any day. But I'm still polite, and excited, so when he allows me to scoot into the booth first, he introduces us.

"Hey man, how's it going?" he greets, hand shaking Jake's before gesturing to me. "This is my fiance, Rachel."

"Hi," I smile kindly, also shaking his hand, and he returns it. 

"Nice to meet you," the younger actor replies. "And congratulations."

"Thank you," I answer sheepishly, trying not to look too giddy, but it doesn't work. 

"How've you been?" Robert asks after asking the person who seated us to bring around some water for us both. "Geez, we haven't talked in like..."

"It's been awhile," Jake laughs. "Sorry, my schedule's been packed. But I'm glad I found out you were her before I head back to New York."

"We're headed back to LA tomorrow," Robert agrees, resting his arm behind me along the back of the booth as he leans back in his seat. "Just wrapped on set but got another one picking up in the fall."

"Which he wrote himself," I add, picking a piece of cat fur off of Robert's jacket's shoulder, obviously proud of him.

He smiles affectionately over at me before turning to the table again. "You're working on a few now, so I've heard?"

"A couple small things. An untitled work about a boxer with one of your costars, actually..."

"Who?" I muse, interested now.

"McAdams," Jake grins. "Both Sherlocks, right?"

"Really?" Robert asked, amused with his eyebrows raised as the waitress returns with water. "I need to call her soon. Hey, Rach," he continues, turning toward me for a moment, "remind me to put her on the list for wedding invitations."

"Okay," I agree lightly, deciding to hold the discussion over if it's going to be a big or small wedding for later. 

The two of them discuss her briefly while the waitress comes back for our orders, so I order him carbonara and myself an alfredo dish and he doesn't even notice. 

"I swear all of you guys are always in the same movies together," I finally interrupt when she leaves, starstruck. "You have your own little clique," I chuckle, moving part of his hair behind his ear to my side.

Okay, too cute and cuddly? Maybe. But I know he's being insecure about the fact that we're with Jake and hes more my age, so I don't want him to get the wrong idea. And...well, the ring keeps making me want to be as close to him as possible, even in public.

"Well it's not hard to tell she's in love with you, is it?" Gyllenhaal teases, and that's when Robert sips his drink. 

"He is perfect," I answer, but it's more spoken to Robert than to Jake. "I always hoped one day I'd meet him and he'd be this kind souled, happy, selfless man and I'd leave with a good impression of him in my head."

"And?"

"And it's very rare that celebrities are exactly who you thought they were, and more," I finish.

"She talks about me like this now, but she never tells me anything of the sort at home," Robert tosses out there.

"I do too!" I gasp, jabbing him. "You know that better than I do, I remind you all the time."

Jake takes a sip of his drink as he laughs at us. "Already married, hmm?"

"He wants me to fangirl for once," I state dryly. "So I could go on and on about how much I loved him in Zodiac, but I'd rather talk about how much I loved you in Zodiac."

Robert snaps his attention to me and I smirk, knowing I'm playing with him and he's aware. 

"Oh, I don't think my role was anything to be compared to his-" Jake tries, soft as he is in the film, and I shake my head, leaning forward on the table. 

"You were outstanding. Countered his snark perfectly with such an innocent and young aura."

I guess my choice of words bothers him, because Robert shifts and clears his throat, hand moving from the back of the booth to rest on my knee under the table. He squeezes gently, but then our food is delivered and he leaves it at that, too confused by the fact that his dinner has arrived without ordering.

"I didn't-" he starts, and I chuckle under my breath, picking up my own fork. 

"You two were busy so I ordered for you."

"How did you know what I wanted?" he questions.

"What, you don't think I know my fiance by now?"

I suppose the word fiance is enough to make him stop being so jealous, because he focuses on eating and making conversation with his friend. They discuss my album briefly, and then touch on my love for Taylor Swift, and that's when I get quiet, because it's awkward trying to talk about that knowing she and Jake didn't end on good terms. Eventually they move on, though, to talk about who Robert's working with for The Judge and the table read that's happening in a few days. When we go to pay, I take the check for all three, which surprises him, but I have the money and after the waitress congratulates us and gives us free desert, I feel the need to.

On the flight home the next day, he's back to childish and cuddly, probably a result from me trying to make him jealous at dinner, and he quickly convinces me to finally join the mile high club after leaving a couple cute giggling kisses against my cheek in the booth. He takes me back to the sleeping quarters behind the curtain, and I am profusely apologizing to the pilot and attendant if they heard anything on the way off...but they also congratulate me in return.

I'm getting used to this...the people celebrating with us. The way they all know, without me bringing it up so I don't feel selfish. And the ring...the damn ring is still as beautiful as the first day he showed it to me. It's gotten comfortable on my finger and I've adjusted from getting back from tour and taking a few weeks off... Though he's back to work once we get into LA, I'm starting to write again, and I've been tagging along with his day to keep caught up with his work while I can.

I'm quiet for the most part at the table read, but during a break when he's talking with one of the producers, I go to fetch him some water and the small girl playing his character's daughter is already at the table. She's young, but not too young to be alone. I'm sure her mother's here as well, but sitting to the side.

"Excuse me," I say sweetly, reaching over her to grab a cup off the table top and take it to the purified water. "Just gonna jump in here."

She looks up, then moves to the side, gesturing out toward the water. So I smile back and take her spot at the machine.

"You're Robert's wife, aren't you?" she questions, and I blink, surprised that she's so mature for her age; I guess that's actors for you.

"Well we're not married yet," I laugh lightly. "But soon."

"He talks about you a lot," she tells me innocently.

"Does he?" I muse, lips twitching into a small smile.

The small girl nods, taking a drink out of her glass. "Do you have kids?"

"Me?" I ask, nearly stuttering as I'm taken aback. 

I glance at Robert across the room, too focused in his conversation with the crew, and then back to her. She's definitely on an agenda, isn't she? Or maybe she's just voicing a conversation we will probably be having soon enough...

"No, we...no."

"He told me during my audition that he wanted a daughter so that's why he wrote the role for a girl instead of a boy," she responds. "I thought maybe he already had a boy and wanted one of each."

I blink, processing. "No," I manage, "he doesn't have any kids yet..."

That thought gets swallowed down the rest of the day, not to interrupt his work, and after lunch I make a stop at Devin's to sign some papers for those dates I agreed to. He has a car take him home and leaves me the one we brought out earlier, and when I get back, he's in the field with his animals, taking care of them while we're staying at the house. He's quite fond of them and how much life they bring to our house, and it just reminds me of his costar's words earlier this morning.

I decide to visit him after I change into a pair of lounge pants, and lean against the fence when I make it outside, enjoying the late summer warmth of the sun. I lay my heads on my crossed arms and watch as he brushes the dark one out, admiring his figure from a distance. If I had to see this in my back yard every day from here on out...I'd be happy.

Good news is, that's exactly what's going to happen. And it's incredible to me. From coming from a place in a cold, winter city where I hated what I had to do every day to somewhere I feel relaxed with a big house and a big yard that overlooks the Pacific Ocean... All of these animals...and who knows what else we bring into the home.

When he finishes, he spots me and clicks his tongue so his best buddy Fuzzy follows him over. His hand rests on her neck while the other hits his pocket and he strolls over lazily.

"Thought you'd be with Devin wedding planning," he calls, but I wait for a few more steps until he's close enough that I don't have to yell back.

"I haven't even started yet," I laugh, giving him puppy dog eyes as I look up at him from my place against the railing. "She has dinner plans with this mystery guy, so you're stuck with me tonight... Unless you're busy."

"Nope," he shrugs. "Jim's got plans, too, and nothing scheduled. Date night it is. Movie, maybe?"

"Sounds perfect," I agree with a smile, then push myself up and stand up straight, reaching out to let Fuzzy sniff my hand...though she just sneezes on it instead.

Both of us burst out in laughter, and I watch as he flashes his perfect white teeth. The sound of his laughter makes me loosen up further, though I'm already more relaxed than is usual. I'm...eerily calm. Almost to the point of shivers in my bones. And it's only because I'm happy.

"Come on, you gotta be careful around that rock on her hand!" Robert teases the alpaca. "Whatcha think, Fuzz? Did I do good?"

I snicker at that, readjusting it on my finger. "You did very good," I answer for the animal.

"Remember when I told you she'd be sticking around?" he asks his pet next, and it tugs at my heart. "She's here to stay. For the long haul. You okay with that?"

She simply looks at him, chewing her grass, and I can't help but laugh. "I told Aero the same thing the other day."

"I heard," he remembers. "I believe that was also the day I officially became a cat dad."

"You've been a cat dad for two years."

"I said officially."

I smirk, then stretch back on my heels and roll my shoulders back. "The girl you cast-"

"Emma?" he guesses.

"Mhmm..." I confirm, nodding slightly. "She's a bright one, isn't she?"

"You two talked?"

"Briefly. I like her."

"So do I," he agrees softly. "Good choice, huh?"

I chuckle again, diverting my gaze to my feet from the other side of the fence. "You want a daughter, do ya?"

He swallows, tilting his head, and that's when I meet his warm brown eyes again, admiring the way the sun makes his lashes look darker than they really are. 

"She's just a kid, Rach," he tries to defend, but I reach for his hand instead, letting my thumb play circles on the back of it.

"It's okay," I promise lightly. "I need to focus on the album Dev wants to push for next year and the wedding and the planning for next tour...it's gonna be a busy year coming up."

"I know."

"I like busy, though."

His brow twitches, but he's silent, trying to guess where I'm going. I don't even know where I'm going, I'm just running my mouth. Guess that happens when I'm chill like this.

"...but," I sigh. "Maybe, if you're still up for it once we're married and I get back from tour..."

His eyes are steady on me, so I blush and look down.

"What?" he asks, though I know he's not that stupid. 

"I can't promise you a daughter, but if you wanna stop pulling out..." I mumble awkwardly.

He cracks his jaw, suppressing laughter. "That is the most romantic way of asking for a baby I have ever heard."

"I don't know!" I yelp, embarrassed. "I just...it's weird!"

I can hear him let out his giggles finally, but he squeezes my hand back. "I would love to start a family with you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he confirms. "You really wanna do this?"

"Well, after everything I-" I begin, and he nods. 

"I know. Not yet. Got it."

"Okay..." I whisper. 

And he doesn't press, which relieves me.

"So what movie tonight?" he asks, and drops my hand. "Let me get them inside for the night and we'll order takeout?"

I agree, needing a night in after the traveling and the back and forth to his office. And after that quick discussion. Things are gonna start to get crazy...crazier than they already are. Am I gonna be okay with it?


	117. Chapter 117

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have been working on this for like five hours because my computer keeps restarting and I'm about to throw it out the window into this snowstorm if it does it once more time, good Lord... Then fell asleep twice. Wow, I suck. Hope this makes some sort of sense because I honesty don't even know right now. Goodnight!

Despite having a few days to myself, I'm not focused enough to start writing new music. My brain's scattered between a thousand things: social media, the upcoming interviews, the still charting album, wedding planning... I still have time time before we really need to get back into the studio and start writing and recording again, but I was hoping to go in with ideas. Instead, my head's focused on everything but...particularly next year.

It's weird. I never thought I'd be this into planning a wedding...my wedding...before, but here I am, sitting at the computer while Robert's out in Burbank for some meeting or another, sifting through places in California we could potentially use as a venue. I don't want to make anyone travel too far, and this way we could use the house as a reception...maybe... But nothing's standing out...just a bunch of the same, desert views or fancy boathouses on the ocean...

"You want to get married at a yacht club?"

Robert's home, I guess.

"Not particularly," I sigh, clicking out of that window. "Just looking in the area. How was the meet-photo-reading shoot?" I ask, but he isn't amused.

"The what?"

"I never know what you're doing anymore so I just put them all together instead of guessing," I mumble, focused.

He grumbles back, but next thing I know, he's leaning over the back of the office chair, wrapping his arms around me and breathing out loudly in my ear. He doesn't say anything else, and I sense his tension, so I let my own hands leave the mouse and keyboard and grip his arms. I kiss them lightly, noting his sleeves are rolled up so my lips can hit his warm skin, and he sighs when I do that.

"Do you realize how much hair you have on your arms?" I speak against his skin, and that makes him give in and laugh, kissing my head against my hair. 

"Do you realize how much hair you have on your head?" he mocks.

"Well, I'm a girl, so..."

"It's in my mouth," he spits dramatically, repositioning his chin on my shoulder.

"Then don't go snacking on it," I tease. "Is everything okay?"

"Long day," he admits, his voice heavy in my ear as his scent surrounds me, comforting my mild wedding stress. "One of the kids I visited last year passed away last night."

I close my eyes momentarily, heart breaking for him. "Bobby...I'm sorry, honey. Can we do anything?"

"We sorted it out today," he tells me quietly. "Gonna cover funeral costs and make a hefty donation to the foundation."

There's a shared moment of silence. It's probably mostly me being sad for him, but also him being sad in general. Him being over worked and depressed. Me thinking about that beautiful soul of his.

"You have a heart of gold, you know," I whisper after a minute or two, squeezing his arm, and he inhales slowly. "I don't think the world will ever deserve all the love you have to give."

"You don't know how much I needed to hear that today."

But just as quick as he says that, he drops one arm and reaches for the mouse, leaning me over to click on the search bar.

"Type in Villa Monte Nero," he tells me, then nods toward the keyboard.

So I give in, reaching with one hand to type as he wraps his back around me and waits. I click the first link, taking me to a website of a Tuscan style courtyard with about a thousand fairy lights and a long table and a view with hills that roll into the distance for days. It's breathtaking.

"It's perfect," I breathe, in awe. "How did you know I was going for outdoor?"

"Come on, Pittsburgh. I know you'll never skip out on a chance to enjoy the sunlight unless you have to."

He's right. When we're relaxing at home and I'm not on the computer or recording, I'm outside. He's outside too often, too, visiting the animals. Even on tour, I try to play outdoor venues. Guess the gray skies all my life really did take a toll on me.

"Where is it?" I ask, dreading the answer.

"Uh..." he starts awkwardly. "A little further than you were looking. A place I've been to a few times on vacation."

I sigh. "How much further?"

"...A couple thousand miles..." he answers in a rush, all under his breath. "Italy."

"Italy!?" I repeat, not extincting that at all. "Robert, we can't go all the way to Italy! Are you crazy?!"

"Yes, but this isn't what makes me crazy."

"My family...there's no way they could all get there. And it's expensive, I'm sure! We should...just stay local."

To my surprise, yet again, he laughs.

"So I guess it's a big wedding?" he muses.

I blush, not realizing I was putting that much thought into it. Man, I really am excited about getting married all of a sudden, aren't I?

"I..." I start, opening my mouth to make an excuse, but I can't. "I haven't really-"

"Family, friends..." he pleads. "Let's just make a list, you and me, and we'll narrow it down."

"I don't care how short the list is," I argue, "my family can't afford to go all the way to Italy..."

"Sweetheart, I'm a billionaire. We'll cover the costs. Full trips, on us."

I swallow nervously. "That's still going to be a ton of money, and what if they don't even have that weekend free? That's the only one neither of us are booked, and-"

"I'm Robert fucking Downey Jr and you're Rachel Thomas, soon to be Downey, they'll open up the weekend," he gloats, selfish and cocky as ever. 

I frown, looking back at the screen as I imagine the stunning wedding photos we'd be able to take there. "It really is beautiful..."

"So it's settled then."

"We have a whole year to plan!" I protest, reminding him we don't need to jump to conclusions just yet.

His jaw cracks in thought. "So we'll agree to pay to fly the guests wherever we go, and we'll keep it in mind until something else bumps it out."

"Are you sure we can afford that on top of the wedding?"

"Probably," he shrugs over me, then, "we'll pay...on one condition," he teases, and that makes me nervous.

"What?"

"You take my last name."

I should've known he was gonna ask that, but for whatever reason I forgot how much he wanted me to do that. I groan, holding onto his hands in front of me still, and scrunch up and into a fold when he places a wet kiss on my cheek, purposely sloppy.

"Gross, dude, stop," I protest, and he chuckles.

"Two years ago you would've drank my spit," he states.

That's...disgusting. "And then I realized I don't have to worship you because you were literally chasing after me. Besides, I've swallowed plenty of you, I don't need to add spit to that list."

"I fucking love you," he states as though he just realized it based off of my dirty comment. "So what, when it turned out I liked you it stopped being fun?" he pouts. "I'm still Robert Downey Jr."

"I'm very aware," I chuckle. 

"The movie star, the genius behind the MCU, the-"

"Keep talking yourself up, sweetie," I sigh dramatically, dropping my one hand to go for the mouse again.

"Why don't you want to take it?" he grumbles.

I don't know how to word it. It's not that I don't, it's just that I don't want it to confuse people with my stage name if it changes, and...

"I already told you I don't want to change after dropping that album," I start. "And I don't know. It's just...possessive. And you're not possessive or anything, but just the idea. My mom still has my dad's name, I still have my dad's name, and I don't really want it, but-"

"It's just a name."

I take a breath. "I don't know. I just like Thomas."

"You would've killed to have my last name a few years ago," he tries next.

"I just wanted to meet you," I counter. "I can't just...it would be confusing."

He shakes his head again. "You only sign your first name."

"Not on personal things. Just for fans."

"So just keep signing as Rachel for them, and sign our checks as Rachel Downey."

I can tell he isn't going to give up, so I heave out another breath, then tap his arm a few times. 

"Robert, I appreciate the thought, and I'll think about it, okay? But there's a lot to consider here..."

Eventually he agrees to disagree for now, promising to wear me down in the next year and change my mind. I just agree to turn my head toward him and give him a slow kiss, promising him silently that I'm going to come back to it later after giving it some thought. It wouldn't be that bad, but it's just...a huge step. If I change my name and something happens to us, then what?

I push it down and we have a good night in together, looking at places for a potential wedding while he cooks us dinner. It's actually nice, having so much time to do whatever we want. 

The following day he's already scheduled us a photo session with one of his favorite guys, wanting early engagement photos for our family and friends. I know he wants to send a save the date card out, and I guess we can use the ones we take.

And to be nostalgic, instead of taking them at the house, we go out to my aunt's property for the afternoon, as the sun sets, meeting the photographer at their guest house where Robert and I first met. 

They're cute...not too different or anything. Just myself in a nice dress and him in a dress shirt, and the two of us very, very cuddly. There's a few taken of a shared kiss, of us lounging on their pool chairs, of just our hands with my ring in focus. Is it weird if I love those ones? Even if our faces aren't in them...just his hands...detailed and strong as they are, delicately holding mine on display. I'm honestly glad this is one of those rare times I have my nails neat and painted, too, having had been dragged by Devin to a salon for a 'girls day' on that week after tour.

Anyway, once the photographer packs up, Robert shows him out. But I stick around, knowing we have a few minutes till the dinner we agreed to have with my aunt and uncle since we're here, and wander the yard, almost in a trance. 

It's strange, how I haven't been back at this house since that original party. Sure, the one across the street, but this one hasn't seen any action since then. No parties that I've had a chance to come to, not even many visits to their place, but that's on me. I've been so busy...

There's an eerie calm over me as I wander with my arms crossed over my chest. I take a deep breath, stopping to look at the corner where that cookie table was set up for Sarah's wedding. I swear to you I can almost picture it, still up, and his cocky attitude as he told me my choice of song wasn't appropriate and then called me out for not being a fan. And as if my flashbacks wanna keep going, when I turn around to look at the side where the stage should have been set up, I can't help but smirk, picturing the way he scolded me for not saying anything to him...and then Devin interrupting as she barely spoke English. Now, she frightens the man, I swear.

"Ready to go?" I hear Robert ask when he returns, and I clear my head, smiling at him when I turn back that direction.

"Yeah," I agree. Then, "funny, isn't it? This is where we first met."

"It is," he confirms softly, care in his tone.

"So much has changed since then," I sigh. 

"What, like you make money for doing gigs like that?"he teases, and I simply roll my eyes.

"No," I scold, "like I'm apparently famous now, so says all of you, and I'm marrying this amazing man that I almost ignored completely that night."

"If you would've opened up to me a little bit that night, we could've been doing this a lot sooner," he tosses back.

I can't help but chuckle, letting my arms loose as I turn fully toward him, taking him in for a hug around his torso so I can lay my head on his chest. He knows by now to just accept it and hold me there until I decide I'm done, so that's exactly what he does instead of asking.

"We could get married here, too," he offers, but I don't want to do that.

So I shake my head in disagreement. "Sarah got married here, I can't hijack her place."

"Yeah, but a Downey wedding? Worth it."

"Weren't you the one just trying to convince me to travel across the globe to have our wedding in a completely different country?"

He shrugs, his hands resting on my lower back. "That's not the worry on the top of my list."

I can't help but sigh, knowing he's going to start push on this name thing again. "Bobby...Come on, it's been one day!"

"A very long one, at that," he agrees with a mutter, so I push off of his chest and scold him with my eyes.

But then it occurs to me that he's the guy, and maybe that's just it... It's a Downey wedding, and he just wants to carry that on.

"If you're worried about passing down your name..." I begin, guessing what's in his head.

"It's not only that," he protests, forcing a smile. "It's-"

"Robert, our kids will still be Downey's, you don't need to worry about that. They'll take their father's name," I promise, tucking his loose hair behind his ear.

He smiles shyly, and it's adorable. "Kids, huh? More than one?"

I can't help but smirk at his attention to detail. I didn't say it on purpose, it just sort of came out. It isn't a bad thought.

"That's also a discussion for later on," I laugh lightly.

But he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing as he drops his eyes between us. When he brings them back up, he takes a deep breath, calmly pushing back from me. 

Okay. Guess I hurt him somehow? Was it the comment on more than one baby? It was just an idea, nothing more. No decisions yet. I didn't say yes, I didn't say no. 

But then his soft eyes leave me again as he focuses and drops himself onto the ground, hands still holding mine. He's sinking back onto one knee, just like he did the day he proposed. 

"Okay, babe, maybe I'm crazy, but didn't you already do this once?" I ask warily.

He blinks slowly up at me, his puppy dog eyes melting me just the same. "I'm not proposing, I'm name proposing."

"That's not a thing," I laugh, amused by his childish idea.

"It is now," he pouts. "I know we already talked about it but we just brought it back up and last time I was on one knee for you you said yes, so..."

"That was a different question."

"But that's the thing, it wasn't."

I tilt my head, listening. I don't know what he's getting at, but I'll hear him out, I guess. Plus, having RDJ on his knee for you, no matter what it's for, is not a bad sight. In fact it's still making my heart flutter just like it did the very first time.

"Rach, when I asked you to marry me, I asked you for so much more. I asked for you to stay with me forever, to share our lives together. To be a family," he explains softly. "And I know you don't want to change your name, I get it, but I'm not asking you to change for me. I'm asking you to change with me...to change from two separate people to one family, with a shared life, with a shared future. Changing your name...isn't me trying to own you, I just want you to know that I'm here to protect you from here on out. And when we take those vows at whatever alter, wherever we decide to have our wedding next year, I want you to remember that I'm here for the long haul. I just hope you trust me not to leave..."

"I do," I interrupt, but his lips twitch and he goes on.

"I just want to tackle this new life we're gonna have together, not as Downey and Thomas, but as Robert Downey and Rachel Downey, the Downey's, whatever. If you take the family name...Lord knows it would shed some light on it after all the crap my family's associated it with in the past. You'll be the positivity that keeps this relationship strong, and I know that. I know that cause asking you to marry me meant all of this to me...and I don't know, maybe we're on different pages here, but that's...that's why I'm so adamant about it."

I study him when he finally finished, letting my shoulders drop in defeat. He's suck a fucking sap and I love it and hate it at the same time.

"What do ya think?" he sighs. "Will you take my last name and be a family with me?"

"We were going to be a family either way," I point out, and he twitches his lips, apparently not amused. 

So I exhale, then lean down to take my hands back and place them on his cheeks, steadying him for a soft kiss on the lips. 

"Okay, you win," I congratulate quietly. "I'll change it."

He lifts an eyebrow, hovering close to my lips still. "At what point did I convince you?"

"When you said to change it for our family," I giggle, and peck a kiss on his lips again.

"Mmmm..." he whines in a deep hum, but kisses me another time. "You left me down here for that whole speech?"

"I just wanted to hear you talk," I say with laughter against his kiss.

But then I decide to be nice and pull him back up into a standing position, running my hand through his hair.

"We're gonna be late for dinner," I point out.

But he's gotten his approval from me, so he's back to being childish and happy as we decide to cross the street. Some things just aren't worth arguing over...and we're gonna have to compromise if we're getting married, right? That can start now.


	118. Chapter 118

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Shoutout to Gwyn for basically telling us what happens to Tony in Endgame. And also liking my comment, I love her. Anyway...anyone else have a snow day today? I basically got up, called off cause I couldn't get anywhere, then wound up on the phone with my mom for like an hour cause she was bored, and THEN took a nap till dinner, ha. Not even upset about it.
> 
> Update: I just spent an hour having a panic attack because I was the only comment Gwyn liked, and then like an hour after that she came back on and liked a couple others but replied to mine? About my cosplaying, am I like the approved Pepper cosplayer now?! WhAT?!

"Believe it or not, I wasn't actually thinking of kissing you that night," he tells me as I lock up the gate to the guest home and take his hand, walking down and across the street to the other home.

"You weren't?" 

"No," he answers, making light conversation. "Of winning you over, yes. But kissing didn't come until that benefit."

"When we danced..." I remember out loud.

"Mhmm," he confirms with a smile my way.

"But so much happened between those!" I remind him. 

Honestly... The day after we all had dinner, just like we're doing here tonight...only no Sting, just my aunt and uncle and Devin and Jimmy, who my family decided to invite as well, knowing we're all pretty much a packaged deal. Then he snooped on my meditation that morning...which I haven't really done since going on tour, so I should probably get back on that... And then that morning of the charity party, he harassed us on the beach.

He answers as I reach the door to their house and punch in the gate key after glancing next door at Sting's, smirking to myself as I remember him that week dropping me off with that weird first real hug. I'm sure he catches it, but he's too busy being a smart ass to comment.

"I'm not talking about the heavenly idea of taking you on your aunt's kitchen counter and showing you how a real man fucks. Trust me, that crossed my mind several times at dinner that night," he states, not focused at all.

I jab him with a gasp, knowing he's probably picturing it, cause, well...he's a guy. But he giggles and grabs at his side, trying to avoid me instead. It's a soft smile, his laugh lines showing as his lips tug up above his teeth. Is it weird that he's so fucking attractive right now? Like, he always is. But since the engagement...Lord, all I want to do is kiss that curve of his nose, adorable as ever.

But he corrects himself instead when I stop attacking him. "But actually kissing you and meaning it...not till we danced."

"That can't be true, either."

"How's that?"

"You weren't the kindest," I laugh, holding the door open for him.

He simply gestures in front of him, making me go first, though we're still latched together by the hand. I cave, knowing he won't let me let him through first...even though we both know my peeve about going first. It will be the never ending fight.

"I helped you get through a panic attack!"

"You did," I agree, leading him up the stairs and around to the back deck. "But before that-"

"Before that I was commenting your dress."

"I believe I told you you looked all right, and you were about to say something snarky back but then the whole ordeal with the text went down, and..." I recall.

He tugs on my hand, slowing me to a stop before I round the corner to the ocean side part of the deck where we're going to be dining, per usual. So I sigh, turning toward him and tilting my head, waiting because I know now he wants to say something.

His lips tug up in guilt and amusement as his eyes sparkle with mischief. "I was going to ask if you wanted to get some air, only in my version, you'd think I wanted to kiss you and then I'd tell you you have the wrong idea."

"But I wouldn't have," I counter. "You just said you would've."

"But I would've told you I wasn't interested just to make you interested cause you weren't interested-" 

The amount of times the word 'interested' is used is giving me a headache. "Of course I...Jesus, Robert, you could've convinced me into a one night fling the first night if you'd wanted to."

"Really?" he asks, surprised as he raises both eyebrows, and I sigh.

"Do I have an attitude with you now?"

"No?" he answers, not following.

"Right. Because I don't usually have one, but I was trying to keep my guard up against you because I knew that'd happen if I didn't keep it up and you made a move. Notice once we jumped that fence, I've been nothing but nice since."

"I wouldn't say nothing but nice-" he starts, but then quickly changes his mind. "I'd also say kind and funny and loving and the best fiance in the world, and-"

But I don't need him to defend himself. I'm not going to crumble just because of one quip. So, I lean into him and silence him with a kiss, which he smirks against, welcoming it.

"And sexy," he speaks against me. "Especially sexy."

But then someone's clearing their throat to get our attention, and as my cheeks flare red, I turn to the back deck, noting my aunt, who's smiling condescendingly over at us.

"Well hello to the newlyweds," she teases. "Honeymooning already?"

"You all know we have to actually have the wedding first, right?" I sigh, following her as she nods to the deck.

Robert's close on my tail, pulling out his phone to answer a text or something of the sort, and then my aunt hands me a drink from the table; they apparently already opened the wine bottle. Devin's in the kitchen with my uncle, so no teasing from her, thankfully. 

I take the glass and smile, then take a sip. 

"So lets see it!" Erin requests next.

So I hold my blush and hold out my hand for her, knowing she wants to inspect the ring. That's what everyone's been asking.

"Jim'll be here in a minute," Robert interrupts, but my aunt's focused.

"Well, it's absolutely beautiful, Rachel." My aunt doesn't let her awe stay subtle. "Is this custom?"

"It is," Robert chimes in, pocketing his phone with his own smile. "Trillion cut two point five karat diamond for the main stone, round cut for the ones in the ring around it. Platinum band."

Hearing all of that leaves me speechless, not realizing how much time he spent picking things out.

"That sounds expensive," Erin muses.

"Nothing but the best for her," he replies swiftly, hand on my back for a moment.

"It's stunning, it really is."

I bite my lip, loving this kind of positive attention. Does that make me sound self centered? Maybe a little. But it's not like I'm making people ask to look.

"It's blinding," Devin speaks up, coming to join us from the kitchen.

I roll my eyes, retrieving my hand. "His ring's my personal night light, then...just like Tony's arc."

"Well, congratulations," my aunt celebrates. "Have you picked a date?"

She isn't really on social media much, so it makes sense she hasn't seen my post.

"August ninth," I inform her. "Next summer."

"I'll put it on the calendar," she smiles back. "I'm glad to see you so happy, Rachel..."

I just smile softly back, looking down at my feet after an awkward moment.

"And welcome to the family, Mr Downey," she adds, squeezing his bicep kindly as he thanks her.

I continue to sip at my drink, but next thing I know, there's foot steps behind us and Jimmy's strolling up, saying hello. He pats Robert on the back, then hugs my aunt hello.

"Sorry I'm a little late."

"There's water on the kitchen counter," Erin tells him, and he makes for the glass door.

But then, to all of our surprise, he passes by Devin, letting his hand rest on her opposite shoulder as he leaves a kiss on her cheek. 

Welp. Okay. 

I think there's a shared breath as he disappears, because her eyes widen and she looks like a deer in headlights, caught doing something she's not supposed to be.

"I, uh-" she tries.

But honestly? I don't really want t deal with it right now. I don't want another thing to worry about, another thing to panic about, so I just down the rest of my drink, raising my glass in the air, and point to the kitchen. 

"Nope," I manage, patting Robert's shoulder twice with pressed lips; he's also confused. "I'll let you take this one, sweetie."

His lips part as he watches me walk away, eager to refill my glass, passing by Jimmy as he comes back out.

"This isn't-" he starts, "you can't just dump them on me!"

It must be funny to my uncle inside, who can hear us all fine, because he's chuckling as I uncork the bottle and pour myself a new drink.

"You two delegate like parents already," he observes as I fill the glass half way.

And that's when I take a breath, shaking my head slightly before adding more to the glass, realizing I'm going to need it tonight.

"If they get together, we're going to have to deal with it when they break up," I explain. "And then I lose a manager and a friend, and so does Robert."

"Or maybe they'll work it out like adults," Jon answers smugly. "Or worse, maybe they'll get engaged despite everyone telling them not to and have a happy ending."

He's toying with me, reminding me that that's exactly what's happening with Robert and I with some of the publicity. I can tell just by his tone. But it's still unsettling.

"He's not even her age, he's-"

"Rachel," Jon sighs, turning toward me. "Do you need me to remind you the man you're marrying is seventeen years older than you?"

"That's different, that's..." I mumble, embarrassed that I forgot.

"Isn't Devin older than you?"

"Yes..."

"So not as big of an age gap. Just let them ride it out and figure things out for themselves," he suggests. "She put up with you and Robert, didn't she?"

I admit defeat, taking for the full glass I've poured. But I don't overdo it. I don't get drunk. Maybe a little tipsy, but not much. Just happy, enough to get the edge of all of this news off.

They must ask a million questions about the wedding, and we don't know a single thing besides the date yet, so it's hard to answer. But we run the thought of going international by them. No one's really bothered by it, but this part of the family always travels. Now, my mom...getting my mom to agree is going to be the real problem, if we decide on Italy like Robert's idea. She asks about tour, then mentions Charlie briefly, and I'm okay talking about it now. I tell her he's been released, and about what happened between us, and that nothing's happened since. It was closure I needed.

But honestly, her asking me what's next for me now, what I'm working on the meantime, is what gets me.

"Uh, just wedding planning and some writing," I admit. "A couple interviews coming up. Nothing special. I guess I'll be out to New York tomorrow, but then we're just gonna hang out in LA for a while."

"Well, I'm filling up your calendar with some charity stuff," Devin tells me. "Couple appearances, maybe some time in Pittsburgh."

"Oh, uh...sure," I agree. "I promised my mom we'd visit, so if you're not busy..." I follow up with, placing my hand on Robert's thigh under the table.

"I'll make it work," he agrees, dropping his napkin on his plate.

"She's gonna have a heart attack when we tell her," I sigh, speaking only to him, forgetting the rest.

"Tell her what?" Erin asks, sipping her wine.

I suck in a breath, mimicking her, so Robert tells them instead. 

"Rach has agreed to officially become a Downey," he says with a grin, reaching over to tuck my hair behind my ear.

I scowl at him, knowing that's not an explanation. "He's convinced me to change my name."

"Yeah," Devin laughs, "your mom's gonna flip out. In a good way."

On the way home, though, it's a mix of thoughts in my head. My aunt's insisted on giving me a pair of light blue heels she has from her younger years, asking me if I want them for the wedding. I'm not really superstitious, but I guess having something blue won't hurt.

But I'm feeling creative, so I'm planning other things in silence as we drive back, Robert's hand on my leg the whole way. He doesn't comment on my quietness, because the night was quite relaxing and we were cuddly, as always. 

Don't get me wrong, though. As much as we're a couple, there's plenty of comfort in separation, as well. We don't actually have to be attached at the hip. He doesn't have to always be handsy, I don't always have to be cute. Sometimes I just follow along with him, or vice versa. Sort of like now, though, when he let me hang out in the car after having a word with Jimmy regarding this relationship thing that's happening. He didn't really tell me what was said, but I don't want to think about it tonight.

Anyway, when he parks the car in the garage, he shuts off the engine, then leans back in his seat, turning his head toward me to blink slowly, smiling softly and tiredly.

"I want to start a foundation," I tell him after a moment of a shared look; my voice is definitely done for the day.

"Okay," he answers simply, not phased by it.

"For women's shelters and for anyone who needs help getting away from bad situations," I continue. "Anyone who has a Charlie in their life and needs help but doesn't have the means to help themselves."

"Okay," he agrees again. "We'll work on it this week."

"Thank you," I smile softly back, then sigh in exhaustion...mental exhaustion.

"Remind me and we'll get a team on it. And I'll add you to my accounts, so anything you need you can use."

"Accounts?" I question, and he nods, finally taking the keys from the engine and getting out.

"I'm adding your name to my bank accounts. What's mine is yours."

I follow him, letting myself out, then go for the backseat to retrieve the shoe box I left back there. "That...is a stupid idea."

"We both make money, we're getting married...I don't see a problem here," Robert answers, holding onto the back seat door after I open it and lean in to grab the box.

"Robert, we haven't even discussed a prenup, or-"

"I don't want one."

"What?" I ask, turning back with the box. "You're delusional. I know I've said that before, but we haven't even talked about it yet."

"I've thought about it enough," he defends. "I told you I'm in it for good. Nothing to worry about from me."

"Okay, so what about if I leave?"

"Are you going to?"

I sigh again. "No."

"See, no problem!"

"That's just a bad idea, Robert," I repeat, too mentally drained to come up with reasons right now.

"Uh huh," he muses with a twitch of his mouth. "You know what else is a bad idea? Getting into this backseat and breaking it in."

"What?!" I gasp, bewildered.

But he takes the shoe box from my hands and places it on the top of the car instead. "You said I'm getting delirious. Let's have sex and see if it changes anything."

I close my eyes and shake my head, not sure how the hell to respond to that. So he takes the opportunity to kiss me while I'm not paying attention, resulting in a squeak from me. 

"Bobby!" I giggle, but wrap my arm around his neck for stability.

"I want you," he begs, mouth still attached to mine, and it's almost a whimper, so I cave.

He's handsy, making up for the ride home, and even though the door stays open, he leans me back into the soft leather. It starts simple...and innocent, but shortly after our kisses get sloppier than when they started, I feel that need to have him have his way with me, so I tug down the zipper on his pants and take him in my hand, stroking lightly to get him ready. 

His groans into my mouth don't go unnoticed, and when he realizes I don't want foreplay, he bends my knees and hooks my legs around his waist. He holds my dress aside, trying desperately to hold his footing against the floor of the car as he thrusts into me, slow at first, but getting more and more jagged with each push.

We're steaming up the cabin. It's not bad, thanks to the air flowing through the open door, but it's hot and I'm officially sweaty just after a minute or two, both of us with the majority of our clothes still on. It's rushed, but not too quick. And I briefly wonder how many times he's done this in this car, but decide I don't want to know that answer. Honestly, if I had to guess, I'd say not often anyway, judging by how he's struggling to keep us on the small back seat.

Outside, the box from the roof with the shoes is heard clattering to the ground, apparently falling off the roof with how hard he's hitting into me. I don't notice the car rocking, but that's mostly just because by the time the box falls, I'm only focused on finding my breath and the way he's trembling over me.

There's nothing said aside from a few 'fuck' and 'shit' and 'yes's whispered from both of us, until he finally reaches his peek and has to cup himself, spilling into his hand. He lets out an embarrassed laugh, leaning his forehead against my stomach for a moment before scooting out to go wash his hands in the utility sink.

Pulling my underwear and dress back into place, I grab the shoe box and shut the car door, grabbing the keys he left with the box and unlocking the door into the house. I'm too exhausted to discuss anything else tonight...especially focusing on working on building a plan for a foundation or anything else regarding the wedding or the bank accounts.

We'll save those conversations for another day.


	119. A/N

Hey guys.

So right now I am writing a bunch, but haven't posted it. The next like...sixty some chapters are planned out, and I'm holding them at the moment.

Why? Honestly, just because a lot is going on. Right now, I'm starting my crunch planning to get this trip to LA organized. Fun fact: I will be staying in my aunt's beach house again! Now if only Sting wants to be vacationing there that week, as well... Kidding, but for real...this is stressful because now I have two months or so to panic about how I'm going to beat the mob into the premiere to try and meet Robert. This is where we'll give him the shirts, by the way - if you donated to that, he WILL have them...if not there, we have a back up plan that does assure he gets them. Other than that...my shift changed at work, but I've been doing a ton of overtime, so I have been coming home and basically falling asleep instantly. My friend (probably one half of Devin in this, because I made her up based off of two of my close friends) lost his dad this week, so that's been tough. It was expected but still surprising when it did happen. Oh, and my birthday's on Thursday. Not that that changes anything, because I don't really celebrate it because A, there's nothing to do in Pittsburgh in the winter, and B, no one really cares anyway? Yeah, I'm weird. I'll just be working that day. And just personal stuff, relationships and friendships and me hating myself for opening up to people...the usual. Should've learned by now, ya know? People always leave (anyone get this line, cause I'm currently binging this show for like the tenth time).

I feel like I've lost readers though since I wrote them in as getting engaged. Like bam, it happened, now there's nothing to read. I assure you that isn't the case, but I guess this one's up to anyone still reading? Like I said, there's a ton more planned...and that's just up to the wedding, really. If you want more past that, I have it. This will probably max somewhere between 200-300 chapters? I don't know. I don't have to post that much. 

So, just let me know.


	120. Chapter 120

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don't really know what this is. I've fallen asleep writing it for like five straight days.
> 
> I didn't have heat or electricity since Sunday, so that kind of put hold on any updates as well. Just got it back yesterday. Had to move the animals and myself out for that time period, then bring them all back in, and ugh...it's a mess.
> 
> Uh...what else... I get to stay at my aunt's for my next LA trip here soon so that's just kind of funny. Maybe I'll share photos of what the layout is in my head, I don't know.
> 
> Oh, and there's 15 minutes till my birthday, woot! (I don't know why I'm excited about this, to be honest. All I'm doing is working.)

It's a busy day following, as we take a car directly from the jet when it lands in New York to the studio to shoot for tonight's Jimmy Fallon episode. Robert doesn't have to be here, but he felt like coming, since I was away so long. And now with the engagement...it's just nice to be spending some time together.

Is it weird that I'm nervous for the interview, though? There's no reason for it. Jimmy just wants to catch up on the tour, and Devin's all about constant press. I'll sing the new single, Ghost, from the EP, a short interview...and that's really it. Robert's going to watch from stage side, dressed up nicely in a suit for the hell of it while I was changing; it'll be comforting enough to be able to see him from my chair, even if he's so far away. At least he's here this time.

Right now, though, I'm dressed and waiting for my segment in one of the dressing rooms in the back hall, and I don't even know how...maybe it's the pant suit I'm in, maybe it's the way my hair's half up, half down, but my fiance and I have been lip locked in a slow make out session on the couch to the side of the room. 

I can't lay back in case I mess up my hair, so I'm sitting with my legs tucked under me. Robert's got his hand on my thigh, over my left hand, the other supporting his weight on the cushion. My free arm drapes over his shoulder, the bracelet he gave me so long ago dangling in the air.

I swear it started as an innocent kiss, me talking about my nerves and how I want to announce that I'm doing something - though I don't know what - for charity tonight. And several minutes later, here we are, still delicately pecking loving kisses back and forth. He's soft and slow and it's killing me but at the same time I love the intimacy as I get to carefully taste him and feel each line on his lips and each hair on his chin and upper lip.

"I'm serious," he mumbles, since he's been begging me to bring this outfit home since this started. "Just ask to buy it."

"What, just so you can tear it off later?" I laugh, then meet his lips again in a continuation of the kiss and a small groan when he gently bites my lower lip.

"We can afford it."

He nibbles on my lips again and I whimper in response. "Stop doing that..."

He smirks against me, tilting his head to deepen the kiss before responding on a breath. "You taste like raspberries."

I giggle, hand moving to stroke his cheek from his shoulder. "I had fruit on the plane," I tell him, noting half the flight he was working on his laptop and oblivious while I took a nap in the booth.

"And you didn't offer me any?!"

"I am now," I tease on a whisper.

And then there's a knock at the door after I briefly hear them say they'll be right back with Rachel Thomas, so I groan in defeat, sighing into the last of the kisses.

"I have to go," I pout.

"Can we finish this later?"

"You don't have to ask."

Another knock, and laughter from me.

"Okay," I chuckle against his mouth. "Okay, I really gotta go..."

So he whines, but gives me one last peck, allowing me to stand and then follows suit after I reapply some lip gloss and follow the crew toward the stage to be quickly suited up with a mic. He blows me a kiss next to me, not getting in the way, and sends me a reassuring smile before it's time for my interview.

This is what, the third time I've been on the show now? And I don't like, keep up with Jimmy often, but he's been super friendly with me and I'm comfortable with him, so I feel okay doing this alone now. So when he calls me out, I immediately hop up the stairs and squeeze him in a big hug as he rocks me back and forth on his heels. This is fun now...no more nerves, just me, hanging out, not too afraid of being on TV.

And then he releases me, letting me fold down my outfit and sit, my legs crossed as I clasp my hands in my lap, as usual.

"Hi," he grins, and I say hello back, glancing at the audience before settling my gaze back on him. "It's so good to have you back!"

"Thank you," I grin, "I missed you!"

"You missed me?!" he laughs, already chipper, per usual.

"Of course!" I smirk. "I always look forward to seeing you!"

"Well," he answers casually, "I was looking forward to seeing you too, especially since so much has changed since last time you were here!"

"Has it?" I fake grimace, and glance around again.

He leans over his desk, nodding. "You finished up a coast to coast tour, you're engaged!" he celebrates. "Congratulations!"

"I am!" I squeal, shimmying in my seat and the guests laugh at my happiness. "Thank you!"

"I wanna hear everything!" he presses, making me blush. "Like, we saw...wait, I think we have a clip," he comments, looking backstage for confirmation before they show the clip from the live feed Jimmy was broadcasting, just the part of Robert dropping to his knee and my crying mess.

"Oh my God," I sigh when it finishes up, and Jimmy grins back. "Do you know how intimidating that is?!"

"A marriage proposal?"

"Having to say yes or no to that," I joke, catching Robert's eye from across the studio. "You just can't say no to those puppy eyes."

"I wouldn't say no, either," he answers sincerely, but I know he's kidding. "So I know what happened, but...were you expecting it?!"

"Not at all!" I answer excitedly, happy to talk about this. "He actually put the ring in my pocket before he went up to give the toast, and I didn't even notice."

"And I heard a rumor," he muses and I press my lips together, knowing what's coming next, "that it's sort of a mini arc reactor, like Iron Man?"

"Kind of," I answer, inspecting it myself. "Still diamond, but just the shape..."

"Let's see!" he begs, so I hold it out to him, and then the camera man focuses in on my extended hand. "Oh my God," Jimmy gasps, and even the guys are stunned, I guess.

"I know!" I agree. "I can't believe it. It hasn't sunk in at all, you know? Like, sort of, but then I'll be at home or in the car and I'm just like, 'you're getting married' and then I freak out a little bit..."

"To Robert Downey Jr," he adds, and I hop in my seat a little again.

"To Robert Downey Jr," I repeat in agreement.

"And it isn't freaking you out that it's him?"

"Definitely," I laugh. "Like, sometimes I still can't believe I'm dating him. But most of the time the Robert that I'm with is so far from what the Robert everyone else knows is, so he's just kind of...my normal guy. And I love him and he makes me happy and I'm so, so blessed to have him, I am..."

"So have you talked about the wedding at all?" Jimmy asks next and I hesitate.

"A little..." I finally spill. "We set a date."

"Yeah?!"

I nod. "August ninth."

There's an applause and Jimmy grins over at me. "Do we know where it's gonna be?!"

"No," I shake my head. "I think I'm still kind of taking it in so once that wears off I'll start actually planning it with him."

"But I'm invited, right?" 

"Yes," I giggle. "You're invited!"

He glances at his note cards next, changing the topic, and that's okay...there's not much more to say on the wedding, anyway.

"So you just got back from tour."

"Yes. A couple weeks ago, actually."

"And you were gone for like...what, three months?""

I show my teeth and nod awkwardly. "Yeah. I left mid May, and we didn't get back until...well, two weeks back."

"This was your first big solo tour though, right? Was it tough being away so long?"

"No," I answer quickly. "No, it was good, actually. You know, the shows were sold out! And I was stunned to hear that! But it didn't really hit until like I got out there. There's all of these people and they're all looking at you, you know?" I ask, gesturing to myself. "I used to just sing to my cat, and sometimes he'd listen, sometimes he wouldn't, but," I laugh in between, out of breath, "I missed being home."

"Right...you live in LA now, don't you?"

"Mostly, yes," I confirm. "We opened the label out there."

Jimmy nods. "Downey Records, after your fiance, of course..."

I smile at his offer to mention it. "Yeah. I think we're uh...well, I think there's a plan to sell it to a bigger company, or, well..." I start, realizing that it wasn't a permanent thing. "I don't really know. It's small, just me, but...honestly, I kind of want to keep it."

My eyes flash to Robert, who's got a smug grin on his face and an amused look, tilting his head in silent question because we haven't discussed the future of the label yet. He's fucking handsome as hell, his hands clasped behind his back as he rolls back on his heels for a moment.

"It's not a bad idea!" I defend, speaking solely to him, and Jimmy notices, doing a double take.

"Whoa, dude where'd you come from!" Jimmy asks like a kid in a candy shop.

I laugh as there's chatter in the audience as the camera turns to Robert, showing him off on TV. He smiles with a wave, getting their applause, and I blush, realizing I put the spotlight on him. 

"He's been backstage," I fill him in.

But Fallon is still confused. "You didn't come say hello! I didn't know you were in!"

"I was busy!" Robert defends, no mic, so his voice is low and probably only barely heard. "And I just saw you!"

The guests get quiet, most likely to hear him, and I bite my tongue as he and Jimmy argue.

"That was months ago! Busy with what?!"

"Things!" Robert defends, not gonna tell him he was making out with his fiance in his studio.

With that, Jimmy rolls his eyes, then waves his hand, beckoning Robert out. "Come out here, then!"

Bobby just raises his hand, shaking his head, but Jimmy doesn't take no for an answer and gets up from his desk, going to pull Robert out. The audience goes wild at this, and when he finally gets Robert to flash his perfect smile and join me, I stand, greeting him by taking both hands in mine as he walks up the steps to take the seat next to me. He presses a big kiss on my lips, though, smiling against me as I laugh into it, my hand moving to rest on his cheek.

"You want to keep it?" he asks in my ear, and when he pulls back, his face is questioning me in its own.

"I know what we can do!" I mouth back.

But then it's time to sit down, so he leaves the one hand in mine, sitting with me. He returns my smile when I give him one, holding my hand in his on his lap.

"This is great!" Jimmy celebrates when the crowd finally settles down. "We can get the full story now!"

"There isn't much else," I laugh.

"But we have the bride and groom to be!" 

I honestly can't help but blush at that. No one's referred to us as the bride and groom yet. It's nice. I like it.

"I don't want to hijack her interview," Robert protests, but I smirk, reaching over to flatten a piece of his hair with my hand.

"You always steal the show, honey," I point out.

It isn't sad or anything, just...making a comment. Because let's be honest..the man is definitely center of attention more often than not.

"You two are just so cute," Jimmy teases, crunching his nose up. "I just wanna like hold up a puppy next to you and..."

"The Downey's would win," one of his band members disagrees randomly, and that takes him off guard, laughing out loud as he repeats it. 

My head's spinning with that phrase. 'The Downey's'...it's the first time I've heard it mentioned like that. Like, is that how we'll say it at the wedding? I mean, if I'm taking his name... Everyone expects me to take his name, I guess.

But Robert has a different agenda.

"You do you want to keep the label? You never told me you wanted to keep it," he tells me, stuck on that and not caring about the fact that we're mid interview.

"I have an idea!" I promise again, squeezing his hand. "It goes with what we talked about the other day."

He looks puzzled. "The location? Or-"

"No the other thing. The big thing."

"The..." he starts, thinking hard until realization sweeps over his face. "Oh! That thing."

"Yeah."

"The two go together?"

"Yes. Just..just wait till we get home and we'll talk about it!"

Apparently the two of us have a habit of forgetting our surroundings, because we both snap our attention back when Jimmy laughs from his desk, along with the audience.

"I think we should just make this the Rachel Thomas show," he offers.

"I'm here, I'm here!" I giggle, turning back. "I'm so sorry."

"I like...wanna know more, will you text me?!" Jimmy begs, and I tuck my own hair behind my ear, sitting back again.

"When I figure it out you'll be the first to know."

He pouts but accepts, progressing the conversation forward. "So, Robert-"

"Yes?" Robert asks, perky and waiting.

"So did you like go see her on tour?"

"I did, actually," he confirms, eyebrows raised and lips pressed. "I uh, well I sang with her in Atlanta..."

Robert glances at me, then back to Jimmy, making me blush. His v neck t shirt under his jacket makes him look...I don't know, but sexy is the only word that comes to mind. They accent his collar bone well, and that strong neck of his...he kills me without trying.

And that's when I notice Aero's white fur on his sleeve, so I pull it off of him, more focused on that than him answering Jimmy and telling him about tour. I honestly space out, I think, because when I come back to reality, he and Jimmy are trying to harmonize Every Breath You Take and it's a colossal fail with the band two beats behind.

"I'm sure Rach could do better," Jimmy laughs, both hands down on his desk top.

"She's distracted," Robert notices, amused. "She has this cat-"

"You love my cat," I remind him, smoothing down his sleeve now.

"-and I swear he like sleeps in my clothes or something, cause it's like interwoven in everything I own," Robert finishes, receiving a playful glare from me. "And somehow never on her."

"You two are so in tune with each other it's crazy," Jimmy suggests, "and since we have you both..."

"Uh oh," Robert chuckles, readjusting.

"Wanna play a game?" Fallon grins.

I bite my lip, embarrassed. I don't usually do these things...but be more bold, right?

Jimmy hands us both sketch pads from behind the desk and I take it, a surprised look across my face as I wait for instructions. Robert grabs his, then takes the cap off the pen he's given and immediately starts drawing it, hiding it from the camera. I glance over, shocked yet not surprised to find him doodling something suggestive, and push his shoulder, making him laugh.

"Stop!" I complain, cheeks red, and Jimmy peeks over.

I push the pad out of the way, though, and scribble over his small drawing, making sure it's hidden. 

"I worked hard on that!" Robert whines, and I roll my eyes.

"So, I'm gonna ask you a question about Rachel, Robert," he instructs, and Robert nods curtly. "You'll both answer it, and we'll see if you can match..."

"Oh no," I say with a blush. "This is going to end horribly."

"We'll be fine," Robert assures me. "We got this."

"Do we?"

Jimmy tries to ask the first question, but winds up laughing at us again before straightening up. "Okay, are we ready?"

"I think so..." I mumble.

But Robert's focused on his pad, his tongue out as he runs the pen over the paper. He doesn't answer...he's definitely not listening.

"Robert!" Jimmy tries, grabbing his attention as he continues to doodle on his card despite my jabs.

"Yes, dear."

I laugh as he looks up with a soft smile, and Jimmy just wrinkles his nose and giggles back. I love this. Everyone's so happy and carefree. 

"I asked if you're ready?"

"Yes."

I'm silent, listening to them bicker. Until he asks me again if I'm ready, too, and I nod.

"Okay," Jimmy grins, lifting another card. "Name two things that comfort her on a bad day."

"Oh, this is easy," he mumbles, jotting down some stuff.

But I feel like I have to think. I mean...I have some ideas. Are they what he's writing? I don't know.

"What are you putting?" I ask, trying to sneak a peek, and Jimmy rushes to snap at me.

"You can't look, that's the game!" he scolds. "What's the point of the game if you look?!"

"I don't know!" I shoot back, but focus and think with a sigh, grumbling as I jot down my first two thoughts.

After a few seconds, he tells us time's up, so I stare wide eyes at my card, then hold it to my chest protectively.

"What two things did you put down?" he asks, pointing at Robert, who shows his card with a smirk.

"Wine," he states for one, "and her cat."

I glance at the card, impressed, and note the way he wrote Aero. Something about his hand writing is adorable. Maybe it's just cause he doesn't hand write often, so seeing something written for me is heart warming.

"Rachel?" Jimmy asks, so I blink, then turn my card.

"Food and Aero," I giggle. "Close enough!"

"Wine is one of her food groups," Robert shrugs, and I agree quietly, smiling.

"No way!" Jimmy dismisses with a wave of the hand. "Lucky guess."

"I know her better than even she thinks I do," Downey hums.

"Let's try another one," Jimmy offers, picking up a new card. "All right, let's see...what's her favorite feature of yours?" 

"Okay, but not eyes!" I cut in. "Cause everyone agrees his eyes are the best, that isn't fun."

They both agree, then Jimmy times us for the next question. I already know, though. I don't think he's going to get it, because he probably thinks I'm going for something sexual or easy on the eyes, but I'm not. His eyes lift to meet mine for a second, and I narrow mine, and I swear we have a telepathic moment.

"Okay, let's see," Jimmy announces, and this time, we both flip our cards at the same time.

They both read hair, and that makes me celebrate, raising my hand to high five him. He returns it dramatically, then relaxes back into his seat, setting the notepad down in his lap.

"Really?" Jimmy gasps. "No! No way you're two for two!"

"She does this thing with my hair when she's nervous," Robert fills everyone in as I watch him from the side. "She just kind of tugs at it."

He gestures toward the back of his neck when he explains, and I sigh.

"It's subconscious..." I admit. "But have you felt his hair?!"

"No! Should I?" Jimmy asks, so I wave him on, offering.

It's quite the scene, watching as Robert leans in over me and ducks his head and Jimmy reaches out to pat his hair. But it really is soft, despite the gel, and Jimmy lets out a "whoa!" in agreement before sitting back down.

"Told you!" I laugh.

Thankfully that's all he pushes on us, cause the commercial break is necessary.

When they come back, I'm moved to the stage to perform my song, and Robert's back to the dressing rooms in the back, waiting. It goes over well...and I'm glad to be performing one of the first ones I wrote for the EP. Even though I've only released one album...kind of a throwback, you know?

I change into his lounge clothes that I've stolen from our bags, and then we're lead by security to the car after saying goodbye to Fallon and his team. It's nice, heading out back to the sound of the fans calling for the both of us, and I urge him to walk over with me. Thankfully, he does, and we both go down the line. He gestures for me to look at a piece of fan art of him when he stops on one Iron Man fan, and I take a photo of him with it for the person who made it. 

When we finish up, security holds the car door open, and then we're in and driving out to the Hampton's, on the long trek back home.

"So, what's with the sweats?" he laughs after a few minutes of driving and quiet solidarity on our phones from the backseat of the town car.

I've been focused on answering emails that Devin's sent over, having lacked on reviewing a couple things she needs answers on next. I also shot my mom a message, and send a lengthy email to the rest of my family in Pennsylvania who congratulated me on the engagement, as well.

"Felt like being comfy," I shrug, pretty chill, yet very confident after that interview, the performance, and the fans. "I know, I don't look like you at all."

"What do I look like?" he grins as he sits up and leans across the middle of the back seat, but before I can respond, our driver answers for me.

"Like you just took a shower in some hair gel," he teases, noting how spiked Robert's hair is today, and I can't help but lower the phone, laughing.

But while Robert's shooting him a look through the rear view mirror, I lean forward, myself, and pat down his jacket over that black v neck of his, noting how his pendent lies in a circular shape under his shirt. His eyes catch from behind his glasses, a smirk appearing on his lips.

"Expensive," I answer, returning that snarky little smile. "You look expensive."

"I am," he confirms without missing a beat, and I raise an eyebrow. 

"It's attractive," I agree.

But then I release him and he frowns, watching as I slide back into my seat and pick up my phone again, finishing off a few sentences on the document I'm digitally signing.

"So your idea," he comments, and I hum, moving on to reply to her with my thoughts. "Care to fill me in?"

"For the label?" I assume. "Yeah! I uh...well..." I start awkwardly, then lower the phone, glancing at the front of the car.

Robert follows my lead and knocks on the wall between us twice. "Hey Jer, private conversation."

It's nice that he's good buds with this driver, because normally I would feel guilty about asking him to put up the divider. But honestly, the conversation about our future isn't something I want to risk getting out there...at least, no this aspect.

"I was just thinking, if I release this next album and go on tour after the wedding...that kind of leaves me in a spot where I'm open to do whatever, right?" I begin.

"Like have a kid," he reminds me, also indirectly letting me know we're on the same page.

"Right. And if we do try to start a family...I won't be able to tour right away. So I was thinking, if we keep the label, I could take over and we could sign some other artists...besides just myself."

He takes a breath, tilting his head in thought. "You want to become a music producer?"

"Well, I want to keep recording. But if I'm nursing and raising a child, I don't think I'll be touring for a few years. So it would be nice to have something to work on."

"Babe, don't give up your career for a kid. Okay, we can find another way, or-"

I shake my head, quieting him while my inner thoughts and reminders of all that could go wrong scream silently in my head. "Bobby, if we're going to have a baby, I want it to be our baby."

His lips twitch as the smirk momentarily fades. 

"I think I can do this," I follow up with. "If you let me... If you want to sell, it's fine. If someone wants to pick me up, I'll go. But I like being my own boss, you know. I like working with D, but she gives me the ability to make whatever music I want to make."

"I know," he agrees. "I know you could do it."

I smile softly, then go back to my phone. It's another several minutes of awkward silence. I know he's thinking. But do I think he's thinking about the label? No. He's focused on the idea of me taking a break from recording for him. He's not going to tell me, but I can tell. 

So, I decide to break the silence, letting my mind wander back to his hot as hell outfit.

"I want to have sex with you," I state, still typing on my phone.

"Okay," Robert agrees quickly, shifting in his seat to look at me. "Uh...yeah, okay, like now?"

"Yup."

"In the...car..?" he questions, swallowing awkwardly.

I shrug, putting the phone away for good. "We have the privacy and it's at least another hour until we get home." I lean forward and let my hands wander up his chest again, watching as they go. "And I already told you you look handsome today..."

"You said I look expensive," he corrects, and I smirk. 

"I like it when you dress up," I say, teasing him with my eyes when they lift to meet his. "Sometimes when you're in your weird animal onesies or your boxers and socks I forget I'm totally fucking a millionaire."

I swear he swallows even harder, his eyes growing darker by the word. He definitely doesn't know how to tame his lust, that's for sure. It shows, weather he wants it to or not, and no amount of acting skill will hide that from me; I know his quirks, I know what to look for now.

"Want me to keep the suit on?" he asks, leaning in to hover over my lips, his breath dangerous on my face.

"Keep the suit on," I confirm, shifting to lean back against the door, bringing him with me by tugging on his jacket.

He groans, giving in and capturing my mouth with his as he shifts fully over me in the seat, his feet awkwardly behind him on the car floor. 

I lift my one leg to wrap around his waist, locking him against me, and my hands are in his hair instantly. Not like the cute twirl of his hair like in the interview, but tugging and feeling him. It's a response I have to his kisses, to him slipping his tongue into my mouth, searching mine out and sucking on it, eliciting a moan from me that he muffles with a chuckle.

When his one hand leaves the seat to grab at my chest under the sweatshirt of his I'm wearing, I gasp and he releases my mouth, snuggling himself up against me and securing me in place under his body. It's warm, but it's even warmer when he lets his kisses trail down my jaw and toward my neck, working that spot below my ear he knows I like. 

This time, though, he isn't peppering them, he's taking long, drawn out kisses as he grinds himself against me, his hand toying with one side of my chest, driving me wild. He's teasing, with practice, and it's destroying my senses. I can only hear his breathing, feel his hot breath on my skin and his gelled hair under my fingers.

"I like it when you're confident," he tells me, speaking against my skin, and I bite the inside of my mouth, stifling a groan as he nips at my neck.

"I learned from the best," I manage.

He cocks and eyebrow, lifting his head for a moment, but I let my palms cup his cheeks, eyes flicking to his lips for a moment.

"Kiss me, Downey," I order, playing up to what he likes, and he isn't shy about doing so.

In fact, as I pull him back down, he picks up his pace and the urgency, pressing his lips to mine so hard I'm sure mine will be bruised. But I don't care; it's hot, and it's a shared need.

But it doesn't get much further before there's a bump in the road.

He digs for his wallet in his jacket picket, blindly fumbling through the contents with one hand as he searches for a condom. Yeah, we haven't been using them, but he can't exactly make a mess with our clothes on if we need to exit the vehicle in one piece.

"I don't..." he grumbles, then sighs in frustration, panting heavy as he breaks our kiss. "Shit, we haven't been using them so I don't have any on me..."

"We can uh..." I start, but he's just in a bad mood now.

He pants, shoving his wallet back in his pocket. "Unless you wanna actually make that baby, I got nothin' to-"

"In the back seat of a moving car?!" I ask, mood completely changing as I lift his head back up.

"There's been worse ways..." he mumbles, breathless as he pecks another kiss on my lips, trying to keep some of the momentum we had.

I don't dare open my eyes. Why? Not because I'm freaked out by the offer, but because of the opposite. Because I am in such a heat and a trance right now that I'm not thinking clearly, and if I open them, I'll come back to reality, and I'm not sure I want to at the moment. Be confident, right? Don't over think, just go with it. That's what he does.

"...we could..." I finally let out, tossing the idea around.

I guess that shocks him, for good reason, because he pauses the soft kiss in confusion. "Wait, you want to...to, uh-"

"I mean..." I start, internally debating, but his lips kissing the corner of my mouth are making my head fuzzy. "No, maybe we should wait, a baby out of wedlock-"

"It's Hollywood, honey," he reminds me. "No one cares."

I grumble in acknowledgement as he takes my mouth for another big kiss.

"The tour isn't for another year at least," I think out loud when we briefly part. "We'd have them before the wedding...so we have time..."

"Babe-"

"I can make music with a baby," I continue.

He growls, confused and frustrated, I'm sure, and then gets back into the mood, squeezing my chest and placing a searing kiss on my lips. It surprises me, but I wrap my arm around his neck, welcoming it. His hips grind against me again, and I shudder, thinking of him taking me on the back seat. 

He's thinking about it too, I know it even without the body movements.

"Are we uh..." he asks quietly, going back to kissing my neck. "Are we officially trying then, or..."

I bite his earlobe gently with my teeth as he works that spot on my neck, his hand slipping from under my shirt to slip into the front of my lounge pants.

"What, trying to conceive?" I gasp when he touches me through my underwear. "N-no, but just this time...if it happens, it happens. I just want you."

He groans again, this time more needing and pleasurable than before. "Are you sure?"

I can't answer that question, though, so I defer. Probably stupid of me, but all I can think of right now is the idea of being intimate in the small back seat after the closeness of our interview on Fallon. 

"Stop talking!" I beg. 

So he hums in agreement, allowing me to go for the zipper on his dress pants, bringing the heat back into it just like it started.


	121. Chapter 121

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Uh...smut for the soul? There's fluff, too. I dunno. Lots of overtime this week, may be a while before an update. Sorry. Also it's March so like...I might meet Robert next month? What the hell?

Despite being tucked into my bag, my phone doesn't stay silent for long. It's not a bad thing, in this case...but it does make me growl in frustration the third time it rings, breaking my kiss with my fiance so I can lean forward to grab it. He doesn't seem bothered, he only goes back for my neck, pulling my hoodie aside so he can access my shoulder. 

It gives me shivers where his lips leave fire on my skin, and his hand grabbing my thigh isn't helping. His beard is scratchy but welcomed, and the smell of his aftershave from trimming, even earlier today, is even stronger when I try to shift under him.

"Let it go," he begs into my ear as I fish it out of my bag. "No phones during sex!"

"It's the third one," I breathe when he nibbles at my shoulder. "It might be important, or-"

"Rachel, I am literally-" he tries again, groaning, but not in a good way.

"-if it's work related, I-"

"-trying to put a baby in you right now, are you serious?"

"-need to...just give me a second!" I insist, checking the caller ID. "Look, see, it's Devin!"

"Perfect," he mumbles into my shoulder, blindly grabbing for the phone when I hold it up and answering it himself.

I try to steal it back with no luck. "Bobby!"

"Hello, Rachel can't come to the phone right now because she's currently got her hands full," he comments, noting my free hand cupping his groin, "but her insanely good looking fiance will gladly take a message if you leave it after the-" But he cuts himself off and the kisses stop. "Uh, yeah. Sorry, hold on."

He hands me back to the phone after pushing himself off of me and wiping his mouth. 

I take for it, eyebrows together as I watch him readjust in his pants and take a deep breath. Then I shrug my hoodie back over my shoulder and run a hand through my hair, pushing the phone against my ear. 

"Sorry," I apologize instantly. "He was just-"

"I know you're supposed to take the jet back tomorrow but I need to put you on commercial," she rushes out, voice shaky, and I glance at Robert, who's watching intently. 

"Yeah," I agree easily. "Yeah, that's fine...what's up?"

"I have to go to Florida, my mom's in the hospital."

"What?!" I nearly shout, sitting up in the seat.

Robert's eyes narrow as he watches. "Everything okay?"

I just wave him off, though, focused. "What happened?!"

"I'm not really sure yet," she huffs out. "They're at the vacation house and she fell, and-"

"Okay, Dev, breathe," I request softly. "Just do what you need to, Robert and I will figure out how to get back. Take as much time as you need but just let me know what's going on, okay?"

"Okay," she squeaks out.

"It's gonna be fine," I promise, and she thanks me before getting off the phone.

Sighing, I lean forward to put the phone back in the bag, the mood from earlier completely dissolved. And probably for good reason... Now I can think clearly.

"So..." Robert starts from my side, and I shake my head, leaning back in the seat with a hand to my forehead.

"Dev's using the jet," I fill him in. "Her mom had an accident so she's flying home for a few days."

"She's okay?"

"Yeah," I agree, "yeah...it doesn't sound that bad... She's just panicking a little. I'll send a care package and follow up with her in a couple days."

"She sounded pretty shaken up," he comments.

"I think she just got the news..."

He swallows audibly, then exhales. "Right..."

There's a few moments of awkward silence as I tame my racing heart, but then I look over at him with pressed lips before speaking. "Did you just say you were trying to knock me up?!"

He cracks his jaw, tilting his head to analyze my reaction with narrowed eyes. "We agreed-"

"We agreed it was a one time thing, not an actual attempt to-"

"Babe, it's not like if I put more effort into it it's gonna raise your chances of catching one of my buddies," he states dryly, and I roll my eyes, glancing out the window.

But it's only a few minutes before I start chuckling to myself over the whole situation. "Maybe this is a sign."

"What, a sign that I'm gonna have blue balls all night now?" he grumbles into his hand, staring out his own window at the trees passing by.

I can't help but laugh at him, but I do feel bad. "We're getting ahead of ourselves... We'll just...we'll just wait till we get home. No rash decisions now."

But he whips his head toward me with a frown. "So you don't-"

"I...just, we should wait, you know?" I offer, thinking about the fact that I haven't been to a doctor to even see what I'd have to do after what the last few visits have told me. "You have to film and I can't plan a wedding with a kid if you can't watch them..."

"Honey, we're always going to have that as an excuse," he points out. "Work doesn't end cause we wanna reproduce."

I scowl at him, raising my lip. "Do you have to say it like that?"

"Like what?" he laughs to himself. "Reproduce? That's polite! You said knocking up. Or we could go with pop one out, or shoot one into you, or-"

"Okay, stop!" I complain, a little agitated, but trying to cool off. "I just got caught up in the mood. After the wedding we'll talk about it."

His lips twitch and he diverts his gaze. "What, so one minute we're wanting to start a family, the next we're gonna fight about it?"

"We're not fighting, I'm just changing my mind," I defend. "The mood's gone, anyway.."

"Yeah, easy for you to say," he mumbles, readjusting again. "You're not the one with a hard on in tight pants right now."

"That's your own fault," I toss back with a sigh. "I didn't make you dress up. You did that yourself. Plus, you had clothes to change into if you really wanted."

"Okay, first of all," he starts dramatically, articulating his words. "You are wearing my comfy clothes. Second, I you just told me you like me dressed up."

"I always like you," I remind him with a monotone voice. 

Honestly, I don't want to deal with this right now. I get it, he's sexually frustrated, whatever. But how are we supposed to parent if we can't even discuss the idea without arguing? He's definitely not attractive right now. Sure, sometimes when he's angry he can be, but this is just childish, itself.

"Except when I tell you I'll give you the baby you literally asked me for fifteen minutes ago," he snaps back.

"I just said I'd rather wait!" I interrupt, raising my voice as I finally turn back to him with wide eyes. "Why is this a thing?!"

"It's not a thing, you're raising your voice," he shrugs off, pulling out his own phone for a distraction. "No kids, got it."

"Don't do that," I groan, leaning my head back. 

"Don't do what?"

"Robert, my best friend just found out her mom's in the hospital, I can't...excuse me for not being in the mood anymore."

"Okay," he defers, "so we'll wait till we get home and conceive in the bed like normal people do."

"We're not..." I start, exasperated. "I'm not having a baby right now, end of discussion!"

"No, you know what," he decides, trying to act as much like Tony as he can...it's his defense mechanism. "Let's discuss. Let's discuss how fucking confusing you are. First you say no kids ever, then you say when we're married. Now it's a yes, then a later, now a hard no again. I can't follow this shit!" he snaps, motioning back and forth after tossing his phone down on the seat, making me jump. "Are we even getting married or are you backing out of that, too?"

"Don't you start with me, Downey," I argue, blood boiling by this point. "You already got me to agree to the big houses and all of these animals and the name change and-"

"You willingly agreed to those, too!"

"-and this stupid wedding in the first place, which I told you I didn't even want to have!" 

Fed up and over emotional and yet again not thinking straight, I grab for the ring on my finger, twisting it in motion to take it off. I don't mean it at all, because I definitely did want him to propose. Yeah, I had my issues with it, but he is different.

"Don't take that off," he begs, quieter than before, and it makes me pause to take a deep breath.

It's like the realization of what I'm doing floods over me and I put it back in place with a long exhale, heart breaking for making him upset. He sounds crushed, and I know what he's thinking... This ring means forever, and if I take it off...

"I want to marry you," I tell him, calming my voice but not looking up from the diamond. "And I want to have your child, I do. But I don't know if I can. I saw a doctor last year, and they think I'd have all kinds of complications, and I haven't been to one since. And I'm sorry I never told you, but I just...I don't want to rush into it, and I wasn't thinking straight. Things need to change first, so maybe by next year..."

I don't know what my problem is, but I lean against the window and away from him, watching as we drive down the familiar roads along the New York shore toward home. He's quiet, and he doesn't press. He's probably thinking...whether or not that's digesting what I said or if he's thinking of calling off this marriage, I don't know. But I'm not going to be upset about it or panic about it right now. I just want to calm down, not fight. We haven't fought in so long, and I hate it.

Nothing else is said until we are dropped off at the house, and when I get inside I set down my bag on the kitchen counter with a heavy sigh, then finally turn back to him following me in.

"I'm gonna take a shower," I nearly whisper, needing some time alone.

And Lord if I haven't learned by now...

He takes me by surprise, my mind making a mental flashback to Atlanta, that first time we wound up in bed, at the very first touch of his lips to mine. His kiss is strong and his hands on my cheeks make me blush. But I still sigh into him, returning the kiss as my arms find their way around his neck.

It's needy, like that first time, but probably just because at this point, all this pent up energy means he wants to have sex. It's been our agreement, and it's understandable. And it's a whole new mood, different from the heated tension before. This time it's raw energy, and he isn't shy about grabbing my ass and squeezing to make me gasp and break the kiss. 

His lips go to my ear, and I'm already a mess in his arms, so there's no walking. Instead, he lowers us to the floor, right in the kitchen, climbing over me and quickly working my lounge pants over my hips and down, discarding them somewhere behind us. In the same time, I push his jacket from his shoulders and he shakes it off as I undo the buttons on the dress shirt.

But he pauses, lifting himself a little to tear the remaining ones off, sending them popping across the hard wood. I can feel my eyes flare, not realizing that was a thing that could actually happen like not in a movie, but he's not giving me enough time to react before tugging my underwear down and then kicking out of his own.

I pull him back down for a kiss with no other words, and he tugs my leg up and around his waist, his hand resting on my thigh, and after a few moments of teasing me with his tip, he pushes in, taking me on the kitchen floor and muffling my groan with his tongue on mine.

The hardwood isn't the most comfortable, honestly. It's cold and my shoulders start to burn from rubbing on it as he thrusts and rocks us, but I'm too focused on the aggressiveness of his motions. The way he sucks on my tongue and bites my lip, the way he pulls my hip to meet his thrust each time he hits hard. The squeak of the wood below and the way his skin hits mine is loud, mixing with the panting into my mouth as he picks up his pace, and shortly after that, he drops the one hand from my hip down between us, and that sends me over the edge. I can't breathe as he keeps up with his movements, until he finally releases himself, pulling out as previously arranged and spilling onto my hoodie, which I'm still wearing.

"Sorry..." he pants, grabbing the hem of it to lift it off of me and roll it into a ball before tossing it aside.

I fake a smile, but his eyes narrow in question, so I cave. "Do you still want to marry me?"

"Is that ring still on your finger?" he asks without missing a beat. "Then yes."

Then he flops himself down on the floor next to me, grimacing at the cold hardwood as it touches his bare back.

"I'm sorry I never told you," I press, but he interrupts me.

"Uh uh," he disagrees. "I'm sorry I pushed you."

Then he rolls onto his side, kissing my shoulder lightly before letting a hand wander into my hair to push it back out of my face. 

"When you're ready, you tell me. I don't care if it's tomorrow, or if it's when I'm eighty," he starts, which makes me laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement.

"We're still gonna be having sex when you're eighty?" I tease.

He grins back, his eyes light again. "Sweetheart, I'm gonna be fucking you till the day I die, mark my words."

"Promises, promises, old man..." I joke, catching my breath still.

But he pulls me in for a kiss on the cheek, ignoring it. "When we're both ready, I'm going to take you to bed and make love to you all fucking night until we make the most beautiful babies on the damn planet."

"Okay," I agree, almost silent. "Can we uh...maybe go to bed now to actually sleep though, cause this floor is not doing my back any benefits."

He chuckles lightly but agrees, helping me up and walking to the bedroom with his arm around my shoulder and a kiss to my hair, not caring about the discarded clothes left in the kitchen for the time being.

We wind up flying commercial the next day, which is interesting. He's quick to set up first class, obviously refusing to fly coach. I could care less, but I guess with the social status that even I have now, it's not the best idea. It's funny, though, because that becomes apparent the second we go through security. We both have pre check TSA at this point, but still have to go through the scanner, and when we make it home, there's photos of us on the internet at the airport. He's got sunglasses and his hat, and I'm walking with my hand in his next to him as he lifts our bags off of the table and we head to our gate, and I guess they're cute. We're still a little off after the argument and I can tell, but nothing we can't heal from. 

In fact, on the plane, he lets me nap with him, sharing his space and leaving my seat vacant. It's small and cramped, but as soon as he notices me over thinking from my seat, staring at my phone and the updates I'm getting from someone other than Devin at the label while she's on break. He steals it from my hands, shutting it off as the seat belt lights go off after take off, and then shifts in his reclined seat, motioning for me to join him. I don't really care what the stewardesses think; I cuddle up to him and wind up falling asleep to his heart beat as he watches TV from the screen ahead of us with his headphones split, one in his ear and one in mine.

Later on, I realize he snapped a photo of me knocked out on his shoulder, which he posted to Instagram to everyone to make fun of me...in a nice way.

@RobertDowneyJr Why watch the in flight movie when you can watch this beautiful girl sleep on your shoulder? @Rachel_Thomas Thank you for choosing me.

It's adorable and it reassures me that we're stronger than ever and I'm smiling to myself the whole way home.

He's back to work when we get back to LA, though. Nothing major yet, but he spends a couple days reading over potential projects his team has pitched to him in the office. I get the word that the convention in New York is announcing my appearance, so I have the green light, so when he's reading over a script in the office one afternoon, I decide to set up my laptop, which I rarely use, and take over my own Facebook page...the verified one that Devin created and I have yet to actually be on. Twitter and Instagram? Cool. Facebook? Never was my thing.

I honestly don't know who's even going to join a live stream, but I launch it and wait patiently. 

I don't have to wait long before several hundred viewers join in, which kind of terrifies me. So I take a sip of water and swallow my nerves, running a hand through my hair as I sit at the kitchen island and smile at the screen.

"Hi, guys!" I greet. "Um...I really don't know what I'm doing so I'm sorry in advance..."

There's a flutter of comments and I don't know where to start, so I ignore them for now.

"I'll answer some questions here in a second, if you guys want... I actually came on though to announce something fun! Uh..." I ramble, scratching my head. "So I just found out that I'll be in New York in October! Which is awesome, cause I'll be there for comic con, which I actually went to as a visitor a few times... But this time they're letting me meet you guys, so I can't wait to see everyone there if you come out!"

Then I take to the comments, giggling as I read some out loud.

"Hello from Germany..." I read, then answer. "Hi! That's so far away!" Then another. "Philadelphia, New Jersey, Phoenix...hi Jade! Hi Tom, hi Daija... Wow, you guys are all over!"

Then one comes up complimenting my album, to which I thank. Then another asking if I'm going to be in New York all three days or just one.

"I think they have me for Saturday and Sunday!" I answer. "My weeks are getting full...we're back in the studio next week, and I'm going to be using most of my spare time on charity work and wedding planning. There's gonna be some cool things happening, but I'll be telling you guys about all of those later..."

"What on Earth are you doing?" I hear behind me after that, so I smirk, watching as Robert strolls into the kitchen from the hallway leading to the office in the camera.

Aero follows him at his feet, and I giggle. "And there's my cat who I never get to hang out with anymore cause he took a liking to his new dad."

I let out a real laugh at the comments that flood in about me calling Robert a cat dad, and they quickly shift from New York to him, wanting to know more. I don't mind it, though. I love gushing about him, but Devin and my mom usually just scold me or try to warn me about things that don't exist, so I generally avoid it.

"Will I be bringing Robert along?" I read, grinning ear to ear when I spin around to shoot him a questioning glance. "Well, Roberto, what do you think?"

"Roberto..." he teases from the kitchen sink, "has a photo shoot for GQ that day, also in New York. And we have shoots that week following for The Judge."

He pours his drink, then watches me pout and turn back toward the camera. "Sorry guys, you heard him."

I hear him laugh at me, and then he wanders over, leaning down to give me a big kiss on the cheek in front of the video feed, grinning at them and making a funny face.

"Hello, world!" he greets.

So I swivel in my seat to wrap my arms around his waist when he stands back up, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. I'm sure this doesn't look good to the viewers, but whatever.

"How's work going?" I asks kindly, genuinely interested, and he looks at me as though he just remembered exactly why he asked me to marry him.

Sipping at his drink, he lets his other hand massage my shoulder, then smiles back down at me. "Lots and lots of paperwork. Wanna take a break when you're done here?"

"I think I can make time," I agree, biting my lip. "Whatcha thinking?"

"We could take a hike? Haven't been to the trails in ages."

"Sounds perfect, I murmur, squeezing his hand when I let him go and grab it to say goodbye for the time being. "Don't work too hard."

He hums a reply and wanders off, sipping his drink again, and then I turn back to the live feed.

"Sorry, where were we?" I ask, giggling like a child again, and I can't help but smile to myself as he returns to his desk work. "He is adorable!"

I smirk, shaking my head. I'm glad everyone seems to be liking us together...at least on my page, so there's no negative comments. Maybe one or two, but I can ignore them if I see them.

"I have no idea what he's wearing," I answer one asking me why he's not matching. "I actually don't think he's changed out of what he slept in."

I recall the blue pin striped pajama pants he never changed out of and huff out a laugh, realizing they do not match his red top. But hey, when has his interesting sense of style ever made sense?

"What do we usually do on a night in?" I repeat, humming as I think. "I guess it depends. Most likely movie night and takeout, but our schedules are so messed up...these last few weeks are the first real quality time we've had together in a while!"

I raise an eyebrow to myself as I try to focus on the other questions, knowing I purposely left out the fact that we usually wind up in bed...and not so innocently. But they're no better, some of them commenting on exactly what I was hoping they didn't assume earlier when I was hugging him from down here.

"Okay, you guys! Why is everyone..." I sigh, reading. "No, that is definitely not the height he should be for a blow job! Can I not hug my fiance?!"

I swear I hear him nearly spit out his drink from the other room...but at least he's probably laughing; thank God for his similar sense of humor. "Dirty minds, all of you! ...that's for later, anyway."

I clear my throat, readjusting my shirt as I blush, trying to hide the fact that I really am embarrassed.

"Rachel, don't tease!" he yells back, loud enough for the viewers to hear, I'm sure, and I burst out in laughter, laughing my ass off at him.

"Kidding, kidding..." I yell back, then focus on the camera. "Okay, I can answer a few more but I'm gonna make this short today so we don't distract him."

There's actually a decent amount of comments that follow about my music, and my touring, which is nice to move on to. Someone comments on the wedding, congratulating us, to which I decide to wrap up on.

"Thank you!" I grin, inspecting my ring on the table top. "I'm really excited to start planning everything out... But uh, I think I'm gonna wrap this up now, guys. Thanks for chatting with me though, I'll try to do another one of these soon!"

I close the laptop after saying goodbye, and excuse myself from the table to go bother Robert. I wander in, slipping behind him quietly and letting my arms snake around his shoulders. He swallows and shifts when I plant a wet kiss on his neck, whispering in his ear.

"How's it going?" I ask softly, and he peeks at me from under his reading glasses.

"It's...interesting."

"A no go?"

"I'll think about it," he answers, though I'm not convinced he's focused on the packet. "You all done in there?"

I nod against his shoulder. "I can wait till you're done."

"Just a few more pages," he tells me with a soft smile and then focuses back on the sheets.

But I don't plan on letting him focus at all, my lips meeting his neck again before brushing against his ear lobe while my hands wander down his pecks. After that comment of his not to tease, I feel like doing something nice for him...and I love watching him work, even if it's just reading. That complicated mind of his working will always be a turn on for me.

"I can entertain myself while you finish..."

And next thing he knows, I'm circling around him, making sure to keep at least one hand on him, before I push his chair back a little and straddle his waist. He groans at the contact as my hands grip his neck to steady him, and then I'm pressing my lips to his in a heated kiss that he's not about to deny. He waits a second before meeting my tongue and then he's lost, completely forgetting about the papers in his hands.

"Rachel..." he warns in a whisper when I let him go, my hands traveling south against his torso.

"Don't worry about me," I murmur and he watches as my hands untie the string on his pants and I slides off of his lap to sink to my knees in front of him. "You just keep working."

His eyes narrow and his lips twitch as I tugs down the front of his pajama pants and slip a hand through the boxers underneath, pulling him out and gripping him tightly. His nails dig into the script in his hands, so I decide to attack him by flashing my eyes up at him while I take him in my mouth, slowly dipping down over as much of him as I can. My hand stays wrapped around his base and squeezes as I slip back up and bob my head, making him suck in a sharp breath and close his eyes for a second.

"Rach..." he breathes just barely, but I don't stop my slow movements. "Shit..."

And then I let my tongue circle his underside and the tip of his length hits the back of my throat and he groans, tossing his head back as he focused on the warm, wet feeling of my mouth on him. That's when he drops the packet in his hands to the floor at his side.

With that, he shifts just slightly, opening his legs a little more so I can settle myself between them, and then his hand wanders to the back of my head, guiding me up and down once he tangles his fingers in my hair. A groan escapes his throat as he leans back and his muscles start to tense up already.

"Fuck..." he curses.

Finally, he reopens his eyes again and I smirk over him, if that's even possible, before sucking up and releasing him. My eyes don't leave his as I take my tongue and draw it along the bottom of him before circling the top and taking him back down, tugging hard with my cheeks. My free hand wanders down, cupping his boys, and that leaves his breathing staggered as I go back to the original pace and my fist around his base starts pumping faster, earning another deep moan from him.

"Why the hell," he gasps with another groan, "did you decided to actually come in here and suck me off like this?"

I can only chuckle, not wanting to break my pace cause I know he's close.

"It's hot as fuck," he continues.

To shut him up, though, I take him deep again and he twitches, arching his back a little and tightening his grip on my head.

"Babe..." he manages, trying to pull me off before he finishes. "Babe, I'm gonna come, I'm-"

"Come," I demand, and he instinctively presses his eyebrows together and lets his jaw drop slightly as he welcomes the waves of pleasure, feeling himself empty into my mouth.

I slowly moves, letting him ride it out, and then I swallow, which I've only done it maybe twice for him before.

Finally, I releases him, licking off what I missed, and then help him back into his pants before standing back up and taking his glass from his desk behind me, taking a few sips of water to wash his taste down.

"Ready for our walk?" I smirk, raising an eyebrow as I look at him over the rim of the cup.

He blinks, stunned and still regrouping. "Where the hell did that come from?"

So I grin, leaning back over him and taking his lips with mine for a soft kiss, completely different than before.

"You said don't tease," I whisper and I can already notice him getting hard again. "And I love you," I add, running a hand through his hair as I gaze warmly down at him.

"Yeah, I love you too, but-" he protests, and I chuckle.

"Am I not allowed to be nice to my fiance? Geez, what's with everyone wanting to call me out today?!"

I'm kidding again, so he returns my smile and pulls me back by my hands, begging for another cute kiss.

"I do not deserve you," he mumbles into it.

But I chuckle, pulling back, and clap my hands in the air. "Chop, chop, sir! You promised me a hike, let's go!"


	122. Chapter 122

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Um...lots happening. Anyone see Captain Marvel this weekend? I liked it. I am afraid to pet my cat now, though. I've got so much stuff I can't wait to tell everyone too, but it's gotta wait till April... Found out some stuff and can't relay any info but you shall know soon... Thanks to everyone who's still like keeping up with this. Sorry I haven't been posting. Depression is actually very real and I've been struggling the past couple months...and everyone I used to talk to about it kind of ducked out and ditched me. So it's been tough...haven't found the inspiration to write, even though I have the next like 60 parts outlined.. Anyway, hope this is even any good...

As August nears an end, I'm due back in the studio to regroup with my band and Delilah and see where we want to go from here. I don't have any obligations, being Robert's label and all...so no specific contracts or whatever. But I want to make another record, especially since mine has now topped in the number two slot for new releases, and the second single has settled around number seven for the last few weeks. I've yet to hit a number one on anything, but that's okay...I'll work harder this time!

After spending a few days in Florida, Devin's back and back in my meetings like nothing's happened. Her mom's okay, just a scare, and now she's taking regular monthly visits...but that's deserved and I have no problem with it. She helps us set a timeline, though, conferencing Jimmy in to one of our sit downs to include Robert's schedule, because I do not want to have anything intervening with his important stuff. It's gonna be a rule...to keep us close, so we aren't apart for longer than need be. If all goes well...I can drop an album sometime next spring and launch a tour after the wedding, with potential for international stops, which is insane to me still.

Regardless, I'm much more confident since coming home. I know I'm taking on a bit of Robert's cockiness, but after putting up with it for two years... But what really starts to give me an ego is the fact that during one of our meetings, we have the TV on in the background, waiting for the AMA nominations to be listed on GMA. I'm not even paying attention, because if I do, I won't be focused on anything else and I'll just sit here panicking... Instead, I'm looking over studio time for next week when they drop, and my only alert is when Devin squeals and jabs me from my side and I flinch, blinking toward her with surprise.

"Jesus, what?!" I gasp, but I'm met with her phone in my face, apparently recording me. "Come on, I literally rolled out of bed to come here, Dev, no cameras!"

"You're nominated!" she freaks out, gesturing toward the phone to affirm my assumptions. "Did you hear that?!"

"I'm...I'm what?!" I breathe, staring back at the TV with wide eyes and forgetting the paper below me completely.

Sure enough, there's list of categories and names on the screen, and under New Artist Of The Year is myself, among much more deserving people...Florida Georgia Line, Imagine Dragons, Macklemore & Ryan Lewis, Phillip Phillps, and Ariana Grande. Yeah, I won't win. But to even be considered?!

Before I can answer her, my phone's ringing, buzzing on the table. I blindly grab for it and answer it, knowing the specific buzz tone that I only have for my fiance.

"Babe-" I try, flashing a glance at Devin who's still recording.

But he's first to talk. "Sweetheart, congratulations!" Robert celebrates on the other end of the line. "You fucking did it!"

I finally start laughing, breathing heavy as I try to stabilize my now shaking hands. "Are you watching it?!"

"Had it on in the office all morning," he confirms. "Look at your name up there!"

"I can't believe it," I whisper.

"You deserve it," he tells me sweetly. "Dinner later, to celebrate? I'm taking you out."

"Okay," I giggle, biting my lip with a blush. 

"I'll be home around four...love you, gorgeous."

"Love you more," I tease, and Devin's rolling her eyes, but still recording the moment.

"Congrats, Rach!" she sings as the group in the room moves to hug me from my seat.

It's overwhelming but in a good way, and she posts the video shortly after, and I don't even want to dive into comments. There's tons of congratulations from fans, and so many people asking if I was talking to Robert on the phone. I call my mom shortly after, who's freaking out like Devin was, and I'm just over the top giddy. I'll let myself be happy now...and panic about how to react when I don't win later.

Robert surprises me when he gets home with flower in hand as he catches me snacking on some ice cream from the freezer in the kitchen when he walks in.

"Ah! Save the appetite!" he pouts, but hands me the bouquet and I sigh, setting down the spoon in the sink. 

"What are these for?!" I ask, taking them in my hands gently and smelling their fresh scent with a smile.

"For my exquisite, super talented fiance and her first major award nomination," he shrugs off, fishing out a vase from one of the cabinets. "What are you doing this weekend, by the way?"

"Uh..." I think out loud as he fills it with water. "I have my interview with Ellen on Friday. Other than that, just writing. We don't have studio time scheduled till next week."

"Well, you're busy on Sunday now," he states with a smirk, taking the flowers back to stand them in the vase on the counter.

"Okay..." I muse with a raised eyebrow. "With what?"

"We...are going to take a day trip."

"Where?"

"Disney," he smiles back, eyes shining while he's arranging the flowers in the vase to look nice.

Is it weird that it's attractive? The way he's being so meticulous about their position. The way his shoulders are back as he stands tall...well, tall for him. It shapes his back and defines his ass, not gonna lie, the loose t shirt he's wearing pooling nicely above his hips. 

"You wanted to go last year and we never did," he reminds me next, breaking my concentration. "There, how's that look?"

"They're beautiful," I smile softly back, hand running down his back as I join him to inspect the flowers. "Thank you."

He returns the look and watches me for a moment, a shared silence before clearing his throat. "So, whatcha thinking? Japanese? Italian, Mediterranean?"

"Whatever you want," I answer, not in the mood for anything in particular. 

"Okay...a surprise, then," he nods. "Let me go get freshened up and change and we'll go, say about six?"

I suppose our relationship has progressed enough to not be jumping each other every chance we get, which is okay. To be honest, I'm surprised he's so sexually driven sometimes, but I don't really need things to be like that. I'm comfortable in this relationship, at this point in my life, and even those simple touches like my hand on his back are enough to connect me to him.

He takes me to a place in the strip for dinner, somewhere new, somewhere with lots of options so he can stick to his diet for his filming. And afterwards, we take a walk on the beach below his yard and just talk. Not about work, just about us. Things we want to do, things we want to try together...our ideas for the wedding. I think we've agreed it will be a bigger wedding than I originally planned, but not huge. Enough people so he can invite all of his costar friends...but since my side won't be too big, it'll be okay. We actually wind up taking to bed after we make it back to the house. There's some shared kissing in the kitchen when we make it back in, but after a bigger yawn than anticipated, we decide to call it a night.

I'm by myself for Ellen, which is nerve wracking. I don't know her. Fallon is comfortable because I've done it. This is new. This is the same kind of thing, I guess, but it's afternoon, filming for the following week, and I don't know if I'll be able to keep up with her questions.

"Okay, so no talk about his projects, no talk about the tour, because it's still under wraps," Devin instructs me from side stage before I'm about to go on. "You can drop info on the album, tell them we're going back into the studio, whatever. The con is a go. AMAs, fine. Nothing past next year, and no wedding talk!"

"No wedding talk?!" I ask, confused. "Why?!"

"No more date or name dropping," she clarifies. "Better for you guys to keep it a secret to the public. After Fallon we've got people scouting out your venue."

"Dev," I groan. "I'm not gonna like tell them exactly where we'll be! I don't even know that yet! But if I wanna talk about our ideas, I'm gonna talk about them. K?"

"But-"

"I love you, and you're doing an amazing job as my manager, you are," I try to explain. "But I don't want to be closed off to our fans."

"Fine, just...watch the details!" she orders, and I roll my eyes as I'm welcomed onto the show for her. 

The stage is set up differently and I swear there's a few more seats than Jimmy has, but I'm feeling confident. So I give her a hug when I meet her at the chairs set up on the platform, careful not to trip on the pants of my designer outfit I was put in. 

"It's so good to meet you!" I welcome first once we part and she gestures to my chair for me to sit. "This is...this is...wow," I laugh, arms on the arm rests of the chair as I gaze out at her guests.

"It's good to meet you, too," she agrees. "I was surprised you agreed to come on, actually! I was nervous."

"What?!" I gasp dramatically. "I wouldn't miss this!"

"Yeah," she smiles. 

"This is incredible," I grin, returning a wave to someone in the crowd. "Hi!"

"I wasn't sure," Ellen goes on in her quirky style, "if you'd be able to make it, with your tour and the wedding planning, and all..."

I chuckle, glancing back at her. "Right. It's been crazy but the last few weeks I've been getting back on my feet."

"And not to jump into it," she tosses back quickly, "but you just found out you're nominated for an AMA award this fall."

"I am!" I squeak, perking up in my seat. 

"For New Artist of the Year. Congratulations!"

"Yes," I confirm. "Thank you! That's crazy. Isn't that crazy?"

"That's...very crazy," she quips back and I blush, realizing I might be a little too confident right now.

But Devin's side stage, giving me a thumbs up from behind a camera when I glance her way, so I push down that weird anxiety and focus on the interview again.

"So were you expecting it, or-" Ellen follows up, and I shake my head.

"No, not at all," I admit. "I know the album's selling well, and that's amazing, but seeing my name up there with all of these...incredibly talented people..." I sigh, raising my hands to gesture. "I actually wasn't paying attention when they put them up, so my manager found out first," I laugh.

"Yeah?"

"And I still had no idea what was happening, and I like, had this phone call from my fiance," I laugh, making a phone with my hand at my ear. "So he congratulates me and I'm just like, sitting there forgetting how to speak...I was pretty sure I was daydreaming cause that happens a lot, but-"

"But it's real!" she celebrates, glancing at her cards. "And this might be your first award, right?"

"Yeah," I breathe. "I won't win, they all deserve it so much more...but it's definitely something just to be considered!"

"We'll find out soon!" she teases, then changes topics. "So it sounds like you have a good support group," she offers, speaking of Devin and Robert.

"I do," I agree with a nod, hands back in my lap. "I get to work with my best friends and it's great. It's like a little family."

"And you'll be starting a family soon," she pushes.

I blink, trying to answer that appropriately. "Let's get to the wedding first! We've never really rush into anything, honestly."

"But you seem excited about it!"

"I am," I smile politely. "I really am. He's my rock, and I'm so lucky to be marrying him. I never really thought we'd end up here, but-"

"He seems like a real romantic with that speech he gave," she smirks, and I blush again.

"We actually didn't always get along, but when we started dating he just opened up and there's this soft side to him...and I'm sure he's going to hate me for admitting that, but..."

"You looked like you got along fine at the wedding where you met."

"He...has this tendency to act a little too much like Tony," I answer smugly. "There was this banter between us, cause we kept running into each other while I was visiting that week...and then he just showed up to my work and basically kidnapped me that winter..." I remember out loud, deep in my thoughts.

"So there was no real courtship?" she asks, grinning ear to ear as she taps her fingers on the arm rest of her white chair.

"Nope," I shrug. "It just kinda...happened."

"Well you're right, that's not romantic," she teases and I laugh.

"It's not a bad thing!" I promise. "It's just weird, you know? I was just his fan, so I convinced myself nothing was gonna happen, he was just being his usual self for show..."

"But then it did happen," she cuts to the chase and I nod, biting my lip.

"We uh...well, there was a kiss," I admit, and her eyebrows raise. "It wasn't a big deal, but-"

"Not a big deal?!" Ellen asks, amused. "Did you kiss often or something?"

"It was the after premiere party and I had been drinking..." I admit in shame, hiding my head in my hands for a moment.

"So that's not when you got together-"

"Not...yet. Hold on I'm getting there!" I answer and the laughing from the audience is enough to make me giggle in between words. "He dropped me off at the hotel one night when I was visiting and just...we kissed again."

"So two kisses."

"Well, they were like months apart..."

"He just kissed you."

"Totally didn't see it coming. You know, and we had actually talked about it after the first one...we had said no, there's nothing between us, there's-"

"There's definitely more than nothing between you now."

I cut myself off, laughing as my cheeks redden deeper. "There is, there is...ever since that night..."

I trail off awkwardly at the end of that comment and that's when there's whistles from the crowd and Ellen's laughing from her chair, squirming in the seat to lean forward a little bit.

"And now...you got engaged."

I immediately lean over laughing and flash my hand, too excited about it still. "I did!"

"Right. And I guess we never really disclosed who we were talking about, but you're engaged to Robert Downey Jr."

"The one and only."

"So, for those of you who don't know who Robert Downey Jr is, here's a photo..."

She looks behind us and a photo of Robert in his cat face paint from Halloween a few years back is on display, a silly grin plastered on his face for Jimmy. I remember when they posted that photo.

"Yup..." I say, popping the p as I stare at it, my cheeks flaring red. "That...that's my fiance..."

When I look back at Ellen she's grinning ear to ear. "You don't sound too sure."

"Well, he won't look like that at the wedding!" I laugh.

"Right, well how about this one?" she asks, and then an older photo of his longer hair pops up, the one from Sherlock where he's tied to the bed, and...yeah.

I bite my lip and close my eyes for a second, shaking my head.

"Is that closer to what he looked like?" she pushes.

"That's what he'll look like after the wedding," I joke...but am I really?

"Oh, okay!"

The audience has a fanfare at this, laughing and causing an uproar and I have to laugh with them, until they finally quiet down and she goes on.

"I think we have an actual shot that you posted on Instagram..." she goes on, and then she puts up a photo of us, with Robert hugging me at that party after the proposal.

I giggle at this, tilting my head and sighing in content as I look at the photo I've seen hundreds of times already, and she smiles at me.

"You're adorable..." she laughs. "So this was, this was after he asked?"

"It was," I answer. "His buddy took that for us."

"So...now I don't know what to call you, though," she teases. "Are you taking his last name?"

"You know," I sigh, "we talked about it a lot, actually...just cause of the album and all..."

"That's a pretty big last name, though."

"It is, it is..."

"So you're not gonna change it?" she presses, and I finally break down and smirk.

"I think we decided I am..."

"Really?"

"Yeah," I laugh. "So it's not official yet, but it will be soon!"

"Does it feel weird?" she asks next, and I tilt my head, thinking.

"What, being engaged?"

"Being engaged to Robert Downey Jr," she clarifies.

"Oh, that."

"Yeah." She pauses, then on a laugh, "did you forget?"

The audience laughs with her and I have to join in with them.

"No, no!" I promise. "I mean, honestly sometimes I feel like I'm engaged to Robert, Tony, and Sherlock all at the same time. That's the weird part."

"That sounds...confusing," she offers, smiling per usual, and I try to figure out how to explain this one.

"Like he'll be so cocky about the dinner he's cooked and act like top chef, but then an hour later he's talking to the cat in a British accent."

"Oh, so he cooks dinner like a normal person?!" she grins, and I know she's joking because she's just as famous as he is and gets it.

"He loves it," I confirm. "It's one of his hobbies."

"I feel like I'm interviewing Robert right now," she teases, then moves on. "How are you?"

"Happy," I answer, simple and to the point, and I fold my hands in my lap and smile to prove it.

"Yeah? You look happy."

"Do I?!"

"Very," she agrees. "So what's next, where are you going from here?"

"Well," I sigh, thinking. "Aside from the wedding...I'll be back in the studio soon. I'm thinking about expanding the label, but that's still in the works... And Bobby's helping me with a charity project that I'm hoping to launch by the end of the year."

"Charity is always good," she offers next.

"It is." I take a deep breath, thinking for a second. "It's...it's a long story, but it's going to be for something that's close to my heart. Something that I have experienced first hand, and I'll tell everyone more once I officially announce it...but I want to open a new foundation."

"That's great," she agrees. "Well, congratulations. On everything here. It sounds like things are going your way."

"They're pretty good right now!" I blissfully agree. 

"I have a surprise for you, actually, before we go," she hums, and then a big box is wheeled out onto the stage. 

Like, huge box. Like as tall as I am?

"What is this?!" I gasp.

"I got you a little something as an engagement present."

"Oh my God!" I laugh, looking at her before getting up to wander over to it. "Do I open it?!"

"No, you look at it," she jokes. 

"Well, I don't know!" I toss back. "I wasn't expecting this... What is it?!"

"Open it!" she repeats.

"Okay, okay!" I cave, reaching out to lift the lid, which is decorated with a big bow on the top.

It's lighter than anticipated, but I don't really know how much the lid to a box like this should weigh. I hesitate, but then start to lift it, and I'm quickly startled by someone popping out of the box. I double back, hand over my heart, and let out a yelp.

"What the hell?!" I yell, glaring at Ellen who's laughing. 

But there's laughter from the box, too, and when I look back, there's a familiar blond face climbing out and coming to give me a hug. I give it back, jaw dropped as I realize it's the person I got my tattoo after.

"Oh my God!" I state, staring blankly ahead of me as she hugs me.

"Hi!" she giggles, and I run a hand through my hair and try to steady my breathing.

"So your manager told me you're a big Taylor Swift fan," Ellen explains and I look wildly between the two of them. "This is Taylor."

"That's Taylor Swift," I manage to repeat, wide eyed. 

They only laugh at me and Devin's laughing at the side of the stage, so I take a deep breath and shake my head. 

"It's so good to meet you!" Taylor celebrates with a huge smile and clasped hands. "I actually wanted to stop and say hi at the AMA's last year but I think you ducked out before I could. I'm a huge fan of your album, for real!"

"What?!" I whisper. "No way!"

"I'd love to talk to you about it!" she encourages, so I nod quickly in response.

But Ellen has to cut to commercial, so after that, I have time to catch my breath as we're lead off stage and back the back halls. I guess Taylor's sticking around, at least for a little while, and now I have to figure out how to stay professional and speak English and basically just look like a normal human if I'm actually going to talk with her. Devin would totally be sneaky about this...and Ellen's always one to surprise people. I should've guessed...


	123. A/N

A/N: Just a quick note because I've been MIA this week...

I am SO sorry I haven't been posting. I have had sooo much going on.

I've been working an absurd amount of hours recently. Half of it is required, half of it is me wanting to save money. It's going to be crazy in the few coming weeks, too... Now my weekends are all booked until May, which is nuts, but maybe that'll mean time will go faster...

I've been severely ill for the last two days. All of a sudden I started couching...like literally just BAM, horrible, heavy coughing that's hurt my body. I was like, oh, okay, it'll go away, whatever... But the next day it got worse, and by the time I got home from work I was shivering with a headache and my body ached like I just pulled all my muscles at once. I fell asleep at like 7:30 and didn't wake up until like 8:00 this morning. I was doing better...but now my headache's back and my cough has worsened, ugh. Oh well, at least it's Friday! BUT this has meant no screen time...cause I can't focus on it without getting dizzy.

Bust, on a positive note...I've also got my tripped all booked for LA!!! Which is amazing because it's only a month away, now! I really can't wait to see my family, cause it's been a while...and my autographing friends who I haven't seen since this time last year. It's gonna be an amazing trip, and I've been so focused on planning it cause I got some really, really good news earlier this week that has me super hyped. Like really good. You'll find out soon...promise! <3

Anyway, expect an update maybe tomorrow or Sunday... Thanks for being patient!


	124. Deleted Scene 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have been severely ill since Thursday and can't focus on the computer screen right now. I'm really, really sorry. I've been trying so hard to get an update out because I know it's been over a week, and I haven't forgotten...I just haven't physically been able to. Today was the first day I felt sort of okay, so hopefully this goes away soon.. That and just...some stuff that's making writing this a little awkward but I can't really explain that right now. It'll go away. For now, enjoy this very, VERY rough alternate version of their first night together from the way beginning.

************ALTERNATE/DELETED SCENE - not new content!**************  
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Walking isn't as fun. My focus is spinning, and despite how hard I try, I can't keep myself upright. Robert notices, catching me before I stumble anymore, and helps me stabilize myself by swinging my arm around his neck.

"Whoa there, Rach..." he warns, "let's get you up to your room. Sound like a good plan?"

"I'm 'kay..." I mumble, somehow coherent, but not convincing.

He chuckles lightly. "Come on..."

Slowly, I lean against his warm body as he leads me past the others, calling to them over the band as we pass.

"I'm gonna get her to bed!" he yells.

"I knew you liked her!" I hear one of the cast - whose name I can't remember - say as he pats Robert roughly on the back.

I want to say he glared at him, but I can't really tell. My focus is not there, and he plays it off by ignoring said comment, repeating that I'm a little out of it and need to go to bed to sober up. All that's on my mind from here out though is that comment...is he hiding something?

"I'll be back down in a second," he says, then he pulls me out of the ball room and toward the elevators, hoping not to run into any press on the way out.

We board the first elevator that dings for us, thankful that no one else is going up with us, and I lean against him as the vertigo sets in, clinging to his arm. I see him blink my way, lips tugged up in a smirk.

"You having fun?" he asks playfully and I grin and hum in response.

"Your beard is so soft..." I sigh, running a hand up his chin and over his facial hair.

He flinches just a little bit at the contact and clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably under my weight. He doesn't let go, and I don't let my weird comments go, either.

"You're so hot," I hiccup. "I can't believe I'm friends with Robert Downey Jr...shit..."

He hesitates and I swear his face lights up red, but I don't know for sure. So why not ask?

"You're blushing," I tease, letting myself press further into his body. "Are you thinking about me, Mr Downey?"

"It's just a little hot," he defends, shifting again and this time, it's obvious it's to readjust.

"Your lower half says otherwise," I spill out, and then my hand's dropping down to his backside and pinching, making him suck in a breath.

Thank God for the liquid courage...my sober self would never, ever do this.

"Oh..kay..." he stutters, removing my hand when the doors open. "You're bold when you drink, aren't you?"

"Admit it," I slur as he walks me down the empty hall to my door. "You like it when I touch you."

"You have your key?" he asks, ignoring me, but his cheeks are still glowing.

I fumble in my dress pockets for it, but it's not there. "I think I lost it..."

He laughs again, quietly, then proceeds to take me to his room instead. "We'll replace it in the morning. You can use my room for now."

I giggle like an idiot, unable to contain it, and run my hand along his chest as he keys the lock and opens the door. "Mr Downey...at least buy me dinner first..."

He doesn't answer, just tenses again as I make contact with him, so I press it. Alcohol does make me bold. When he holds the door open for me, I stumble in, nearly tripping on the carpet.

"Okay, you're drunk," he decides simply as he holds my weight and lets the door close behind us. "Let's get you into bed."

"Only if you come with me," I murmur, turning to walk backwards with my arms around his neck, which is an incredibly stupid idea...until his hands wrap around my waist to keep me from falling backwards over my own feet.

He swallows nervously, and I can feel the hardness in his pants press against my thigh through our clothing. So what do I do? Let one of mine wander down his chest, his eyes following it until it reaching the bulge in his pants. He sucks in a sharp breath again and groans slightly when I cup him. No idea how the fuck I'm not realizing how stupid I look...maybe it's cause he's slightly bucking his hips to meet my hand, or the way his lips press together when he lets his eyes close.

"Rach..." he groans, but he doesn't push me away this time.

I grin, relieving him as I run my hand back up and grab his tie, pulling him down toward me, and then I boldly press my mouth against his, kissing him slowly. His scruff is scratchy, but I don't mind it. And thankfully, the alcohol has muted my reaction to be kissing him. I'm not panicked, just...lustful. So I push my tongue into his mouth, searching his out, and he hesitantly meets mine, parting and reapplying our kiss while he's debating it in his head...I can tell. Still, my tongue tangles with his and delicately tastes him until he finally pushes back.

"Rachel, you're drunk, stop," he begs in a whisper, eyes still closed and brow pushed together in frustration; it sounds like a demand, but I can't think coherently so I miss it.

"Please, Bobby..." I beg, stumbling over my words. "I want you to touch me."

What I don't miss is the way he swallows, hard, his Adam's apple bobbing quickly as he sucks in a breath. He's mentally battling himself.

"Bobby?" he asks instead. "Where did that come from?"

"'s cute," I mumble, leaning up to brush my lips against his again like a complete idiot.

He turns his head slightly at the contact, closing his eyes as his shoulders tense. My lips graze the corner of his mouth, kissing part of his mustache instead.

"Rach, seriously..." he groans, shifting uncomfortably. "This isn't how our first kiss should be..."

I hiccup again, grinning against his jaw as my drunk self peppers kisses across it and back. "You've thought about this too?"

He definitely groans, much louder this time, when I drop his tie and start unbuttoning his dress shirt, then push it from his shoulders slowly. He rolls his shoulders up, trying to keep it on, so I let my hands wander back down his abs, feeling the muscles constrict when I reach his bare stomach.

"I'm not doing this while you're drunk," he argues again. "You deserve better."

"I want you," I promise, arms locking around his neck again and my eyes lazily glance up at his struggling face.

"You don't know what you want," he disagrees.

"I know you make me happy and I know you like sex," I slur, but I'm not lying. "I know you were jealous about the thing about the guy from work. But you don't know that I meant you, and the guy's made up. But I can't tell you because I don't know if you like me. But I know I just want you, not the celebrity, but you."

My drunken rant probably scares him off, but I'm proud of myself for getting through it without fucking up any words. And I meant all of it. So when he's quiet, that courage starts to die off a little, until...

"Fuck...I was going to hell anyway," he mumbles under his breath, and then he pulls me aggressively back to him, attacking my mouth with his own.

I definitely let a moan slip, which elicits a grunt from him as he pulls me back toward the bed, but my hands are already pushing the shirt back again, revealing his toned torso. Though I can't see it right this second, I'm letting my hands feel him up. But then he takes hold of my tongue and sucks on it gently and I nearly melt, my mind forgetting what my hands were doing.

When he lets me go, he knots his tongue with mine, but by now, we're parting for breaths after every few seconds, and his hand is pulling at the zipper of my dress until it falls freely from me and I step out of it...with his help; my head's still spinning. The pads of his warm fingers trace my skin as I listen to the sound of our ragged, hot breathing, and then I bite his lip for some fucked up reason, and he growls, roughly thrusting his hips into mine before letting me go to undo his own pants, dropping them and his boxers in one quick motion...though he does toss a condom from his back pocket onto the bed before losing them completely.

When he presses his hard length against me, now bare, I moan again, and this makes him detach from my mouth for the first time, only to go for my neck, sucking at a spot above my shoulder and sending shivers down my spine.

"Fuck," I groan, nails digging into his shoulders for stability while he hooks into my underwear and tugs them down.

I fall far too easily when he hits the bed, pulling me down over him. He grabs the back of my head, mouth locking with mine in another kiss, then blindly takes for the condom as I straddle his waist, moving in slow circles over his hips.

"Shit..." he breathes when it's his turn and I go for his neck, hands on his cheeks to keep his head turned.

"You're such a good kisser," I groan in between kisses as he rolls the condom over himself.

"Even better at fucking," he growls.

I gasp as he lines himself up with me, already ready despite the lack of foreplay, and then I sink down over him, taking him in full. He moans out when I start riding him, pushing myself up and bringing my hands to his hips to help me push up and down. I peek a glance, and he's watching me with hazy eyes, enjoying himself thoroughly.

"That's it..." he breathes, voice raspy and full of need. "Ride me like you need it."

I know I groan again at his words, turned on for sure, and then his hands suddenly grab at my chest. Until finally, I start to get tired out and lean back down, going for another kiss. He must sense my exhaustion though, because he's quick to wrap his arms around my back then he's rolling us over, still attached, until I'm on my back. He grabs my hip, holding it in place as he starts thrusting, and when he breaks our kiss to focus on his movements, I finally open my eyes, taking in his strong body over me. His hair's falling into his face and he's looking my body up and down as he pants, speeding up with each thrust.

"Fuck me harder," I beg, clawing at his waist, and he moans out, obliging until his body pushes mine up with each time he meets me.

"Oh God..." he whines after another second, never letting down on his rough movements. "Fuck, I'm gonna come."

But I don't hear him; I'm too busy dropping my hands to the sheets, taking fist fulls in as I toss my head back, gasping out his name as I feel mine hit, pleasure coursing through me. It doesn't take much else for him, because when I tighten around him, he's releasing himself with a loud grunt, falling into a heap over me.

And that's really all I remember until morning, my wasted self finally feeling tired enough to knock out.

When I do come to, I sigh and wake up to light on the sheets and a headache more powerful than anything I've ever felt...yup, absolutely nothing from the night before. With a small stretch I blink my eyes open and exhale, feeling rather relaxed for getting so drunk. But then I notice the bags on the floor; not mine. Nope, they're-

"Morning," I hear mumbled from the other side of the bed, and I react so violently I nearly fall out of bed.

I jump back, rolling over and taking the blankets with me, panicking as my heart pounds. "What the fuck?!"

And then the blankets reveal his body, no clothes, and a slight bit of morning wood that I'm choosing to ignore.

"Oh my God, Robert Downey Jr's naked in my bed..." I say, mostly to myself.

"Actually," he points out, sitting up like it's no big deal and I'm already drooling over his muscles. "You're naked in my bed."

"What?!" I immediately check under my sheets and can't speak, only look at him with panicked, wide eyes.

He grins a lopsided smirk at me and waits. "How much do you remember?"

"Holy shit..." I breathe. "Shit....shit, shit...fuck!"

"Rude," he comments, now obviously annoyed. "Don't yell at me, you made a compelling argument."

"Argument? For...fucking Christ. Did we-"

"Have sex? 'Fraid so."

"Oh my God..." I groan, but in a completely unsexual way. "I was drunk, I-"

"You were," he admits. "But you went on this rant about how you made up a guy to make me jealous and how much you like me and...I like you, so..."

"I said...no, I wouldn't, I mean, I-" I stammer, but then I realize what else he said. "Wait, you..."

He grins sheepishly, and seriously, scratching the back of his head. "Kind of a fucked up way to tell you, I know. I'm sorry, just what you said hit home, and..."

"You like me?" I ask, squeaking it out as I try to process.

He nods, eyes soft as he shifts closer to me, placing his hands on my cheeks to make sure I don't go anywhere else. "Unless..you didn't mean it, I just-"

Somehow, I still have a little bit of courage left, and I cut him off, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips, this time focusing on the new feelings...despite not remembering the night before.

He grins when we part, forehead pressed against mine, then runs his hand down my back to my waist, swallowing hard.

"I don't know if you want to hear this, but...you are absolutely beautiful and amazing in bed..."

I know I'm blushing, and that's the last of my courage.

"Wanna uh...go again now that you're sober Or just uh...the kissing part?" he asks, and I smack him lightly, despite my nerves.


	125. Chapter 125

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wow, hi, I'm alive. Sorry for never posting this. And sorry it's short...it's sort of filler but fluff I guess. I promise after this part it'll get more entertaining...I just had to push through the timeline a bit, but didn't want to skip like months at a time.

The crew takes our mics away and leads us down back toward my dressing room. I guess Taylor came dressed in what she was wearing...or Ellen was stashing her somewhere else the whole afternoon, cause I didn't see her at all earlier and it doesn't look like she has a dressing room of her own.

"I listened to the whole thing in the car the day it came out," she tells me as I awkwardly change into casual pants and a hoodie in the bathroom. "I think your writing skills are impeccable."

"Thank you," I manage when I reenter the main space to retrieve my bag from Devin. "Really, that's...that's crazy. I've been such a huge fan of yours since I can remember..." 

I reach down, pulling my pant leg up to reveal my sandals that I'm slipping into and blush. Lord, why did I decide to show this off?

"Do you remember that heart you drew on your foot for the first few years of your career?" I ask quietly. "I kind of hit a rough patch and decided I wanted to be a rebel and got it permanently done."

"That's awesome!" she giggles, hand over her heart. "I love it, seriously."

"You two," Devin sings from my side, a smirk on her face, "need to write together. Just saying."

"I would love to!" Taylor agrees, and I blink, confused at how simple that was.

"Really?"

"Yeah, we can like...have a writing day. A cat play date! Yo have a cat, right?"

That makes me laugh and loosen up, and I nod eagerly. "Yeah, he's usually around with me but's he's keeping Bobby company today..."

"We'll plan a day, it'll be fun," she suggests.

Next thing I know, she's asking for my phone to type in her phone number, so I'm handing it over. But she stops me when she hands it back, gasping.

"Oh my God, your ring!" she squeaks, one hand pushing her hair behind her ear and the other delicately lifting my hand. "This is gorgeous!"

"Thank you..." I grin, biting my lip. "He outdid himself, he really did..."

"I've never had the chance to meet him, but it sounds like he's treating you well," she giggles. "You two are such a beautiful couple, really. Both of you...flawless humans."

"Okay," I exhale, stunned. "That's a lie! Him...maybe. Me? Never. But you...you are the definition of perfect."

"Not to break up this beautiful exchange of adoration," Devin jokes, "but Rach, you're meeting Jeanne in an hour, and Robert's got a dinner meeting so he's picking you up from there on the way back. So I gotta get you in a car."

"Where are you going?" I ask, blinking the confusions away, and she shrugs. 

"Out."

I can only roll my eyes, still not entirely happy about her dating situation, but I can't say anything negative. It hasn't effected her work ethic...yet...and she was nothing but supportive for Robert and I..

"I need a photo of you two, though!" she requests, and then takes one of us sharing a hug, followed by a selfie with herself to post on Instagram.

It's surreal to me, finally meeting someone I've idolized for music, but with Devin rushing me out, I'm forced to say goodbye with a promise of arranging a meet up to work on some music. It's nerve wracking already...but I came around to Robert, so I can do the same for her.

The car takes me north, to Jeanne's office, and she's quickly showing me several of the dresses I have to pick from, making me try on each one so she can take measurements for tailoring. Then I'll meet with her again and pick one...but for now, she's got cards that show Robert's suggestions for each, so I can at least see what we'd look like as a couple on the red carpet.

After a shorter, poofy black dress and a navy one that has a train, I decide to try one a little less dramatic. Yes, this is my first award show, but I don't want to be over the top. I just want to be formal....to look good, not make a statement. Plus, everyone's going to be on the ring, so I just...don't want to draw even more attention to myself.

So I watch in the mirror as I'm zipped up and she takes to her tape measure to look at measurements for taking the sides in. It's a beautiful dress...it's burgundy, with an open slit down the leg and a sweetheart neckline that ends with off the shoulder cuffs. It's form fitting, and elegant. She has Robert in gray with a matching shirt and shoes, and I can't wait to see us together.

"You lost another inch and a half," she notices as she clips the fabric at my side and takes notes. "Are you sure you're still eating enough?"

"Yeah," I confirm, hands awkwardly wringing at my front. "I guess that's what I get for finally being active."

"Are you still going to the gym regularly?" she asks, more as friendly conversation. 

I smile at myself, happy she's not making eye contact. "Not as much since the tour ended. We're all on a short break, so I've been spending a little too much time laying around the house."

"Doing anything special?"

"Just hanging out with the animals and doing some wedding planning," I admit. "It's a lot more than I thought it would be..."

"Well," she teases, moving to my other side. "When you start looking at dresses, you know where to find me."

"You want to help with the wardrobe?" I ask, haven't even thought about what we're wearing. 

"I'd be honored to!"

"Okay..." I ease into the idea. "I'll be honest, I have no idea where to even start..."

She stands and wanders over to her chart to write everything down. "Are you looking traditional or something unique, or..."

"Both?" I answer awkwardly. "I don't know. Nothing flashy. I like simple, like this..." I add, gesturing to myself.

"Are we letting him see the dress or are you sticking to the rules?" she teases.

I blush, realizing we haven't thought about that, either. "God, I feel like such a bad fiance..."

"Why?" she chuckles.

"I don't have the answer to any of this!"

"It's only been a few weeks," she reminds me. "It's okay."

"Knowing him," I sigh, "he'll probably go traditional rules, just for luck."

"Let me get some stuff together," she muses, unzipping the back to let me out of the last dress. "When he stops in I'll send him home with some options."

"You trust him not to peek?" I laugh, and she has a twinkle in her eye.

"I guess we'll find out."

Robert picks me up on his way back shortly after, and is kind enough to bring me takeout, knowing I probably haven't eaten without him and, well, he ate at the meeting. I fill him in on what happened on Ellen's set, since the episode doesn't air until Monday, and he listens intently as he trims his goatee and mustache in the bathroom mirror.

"She's unpredictable," he chuckles, eyeing me with humor as he dabs off his chin with a damp towel to get rid of the stray hairs. "Learned that the hard way."

"What, someone jumped out at you, too?" I guess, not recalling his Ellen interviews.

"Nope, just played a couple games with her and Scar, but they get pretty intense."

"She'd be a good game show host," I suggest out loud.

"How about the dress fitting?" he muses next, rinsing off his hands, and I sigh, leaning up against the door frame as I watch.

"Apparently I lost weight again. I don't get it. I literally have no diet..."

Robert's eyebrow twitches but he doesn't look back up from his hand as he dries them. "Honey, you're still basically eating my diet. Maybe not as strict, but when we make dinner here-"

"Which we haven't done in a while," I pout instead, crossing my arms. "Let's have date night tomorrow. We can go to the store, pick something up to make... Gwyn's got a new book, let's ask her for recipes."

"You just want me to cook for you," he laughs. 

I shake my head, but blush cause maybe I do like his cooking...so what? "I want to cook with you."

Finally, he emerges from the room and studies me in the doorway with narrowed eyes, standing inches from me and making me worry. But I know he's just plotting something, so I wait.

"I have an idea..." he announces after a few quiet moments and I tilt my head, silently asking for more. "We can have dinner. But only if you join me in the yard. We'll have a picnic."

"What?" I laugh, but his face is straight. 

"I have a call with a couple kids, and then a meeting. I'll stop at the store on the way home."

"But why outside?"

"There's a meteor shower tomorrow night," he grins, finally showing some change in mood.

I exhale softly, letting my shoulders drop. He's adorable when it comes to romance. 

The night is spent with cuddles in bed, both of us feeling more relaxed than sexual tonight, and that's fine. Sometimes I just like being close to him...just laying with him and the cat in bed. He tells me his plans for the upcoming weeks, which include the beginning of production for his movie about the same time I'm due to be back in New York. He also reads me some of the gossip pages from his phone after we get back into wedding talk, since neither of us ever really looked at tabloids after that first day. Nothing is really decided on, just some tossing around of colors...I'm leaning toward gold and white, maybe red, but he's still in love with blue. Maybe we'll compromise. Regardless, I fall asleep against his chest as he twirls the ring around my finger.

He brings dinner home the next day...some things to make a salad and some chicken, and my favorite: the wine. I quickly shut the laptop screen I'm on, making sure he doesn't catch me already looking at ideas for wedding dresses online, and join him in the kitchen to unpack.

"You're late," I scold playfully, not really caring...though it is after seven and my stomach's growling.

Passing me the wine bottle as a form of peace, he tosses a pan on the stove and preps it to cook. "I was in the city, got caught up."

"The city for a meeting?" I question, and he nods.

"Had a talk with my lawyer."

I blink, staring at the counter, then ask, but it comes out dry and panicked. "Why?"

Thank God he only chuckles. "Don't worry, you're only marrying an ex convict."

Yeah, that makes me roll my eyes. I never really think about that, but when he brings it up, even in joking, it's tough to remember.

"Prenup?" I guess, remembering our earlier conversation.

"Nope," he laughs, genuine. "We already discussed that, I'm not getting one."

"But-"

"I'm adding you to my insurance policies and wanted some council. Since you're paying double to basically stay on whatever you had through your old job after you quit."

"You're what?!" I ask, dumbfounded.

I haven't even thought about my coverage, but it makes sense that he's probably got some top notch, covers everything and anything policy, even though he could pay out of pocket for basically anything.

"Once we're married, I want you on my policies. Especially if we're going to try to have a family," he explains, then points at the package of chicken. "Wanna hand me that?"

Sighing, I give in and accept how head strong he is about things, then hand it to him. 

There's discussion about his calls earlier in the day while we finish making our meal, and he insists on eating outside in the yard on a blanket, sticking to his original plan. There's a conversation about the convention and once we're done eating, he takes the dishes in and returns to pick up the blanket, insisting we lay back for a little while on the hammock he has strung between two of his trees.

The night ends with some star gazing and my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat and the rumble of his voice in his chest as he tells me some stories from the Kiss Kiss Bang Bang set that I've never heard. After about an hour and a yawn from me, he reminds me he wants to take me to Disney tomorrow, and next thing I know, I'm waking up a little stiff, still outside and cuddled up to his side, shivering slightly at the chilly morning air.

"Babe..." I grumble, another yawn coming out before lifting my arm to rub my eyes, and he hums and stretches his shoulders back. "Hey, we gotta get up..."

"Hmm?" 

"We slept outside..." I tell him, my own voice raspy and sleepy. 

"That explains why my ass is wet..." he complains.

I can't help but laugh, realizing the dew from the grass just below us really has dampened our clothes and the blanket just a little. So, I run my hand up his toned torso, over the long sleeved shirt he had changed into the night before, and lightly massage his shoulder for a few moments before sighing and deciding to get up.

"Aero's probably eating a hole through the wall... I should check on him," I suggest.

"Go get changed and feed the cat, I'm gonna check on the animals and then I'll be in," he tells me. "Then we can go."

I agree with another mumble, then turn his face with my hand and look up to kiss him good morning, like we always do. His lips tug up against mine, and then he shifts so he can run his hand up my side, over my hip and to my waist. It leaves a trail of warmth, and after a moment, I peck a few more small kisses on his mouth and wind up laughing, as well.

"Morning..." I whisper.

"What a good fucking morning, it is," he grins at me with his eyes closed. "Imagine waking up to this every day, that would be insane...oh wait, I get to!" he jokes next, kissing the ring on my hand.

"Right back at ya, handsome," I tease in a quiet, soft voice. "I hit the damn jackpot."

"Yeah, I'm quite the catch," he agrees, cocky as hell. "I cook, I clean-"

"But you don't do your own laundry," I laugh. "Who do you think's been doing that all this time?"

"The...laundry fairy?" he guesses with a peeked eye open, being a dumb ass. "I love you..."

It's childish and guilty and I huff out a suppressed laugh at him. But then he sighs again and takes in a big breath.

"So, I got security arranged for us when we get there today. Fast pass for everything and they'll set us up with a place to watch the fireworks, if you want to stay that late," he tells me, speaking of our trip.

"Security?" I scowl. "Come on, we can walk the park on our own."

"Honey, Disney loves me, but not that much," he reminds me. "You might be able to get away with it and only get caught a couple times, but I literally work under Disney's wing, I'm the poster boy for their superhero franchise. Trust me, they don't want me to cause a distraction."

"But-"

"Sorry, love," he adds softly, cutting me off. "I know it's not the exact experience you wanted, but unfortunately that's what I gotta put up with."

I know he's right, but I don't really want that attention on us, either. A couple people being walked by security? Yeah, photos will definitely be snapped.

"Fine..." I exhale, knowing I can't argue.

"Thank you," he follows up, kissing my head. "We'll still have a great day, promise. Just you and me, forget anyone else."

I suppose that's easier said than done, but I'm going to have to do just that. He's right, again. The day's to be spent with him, just like last night was. He's making a gesture to do something I wanted to do a year ago and never found time to. He's listening to me, remembering things, and trying to do what he can to make it happen.


	126. Chapter 126

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A shit ton of weird fluff. Sorry for lack of updates. This is like double the length though. Lots to do in the next two weeks, then I'm off to LA. Fun fact: I've been writing this for a year now, what even is that?

He's right...as weird as it is to have a security unit surround us through Disney, they keep their space, and so do the people watching. I've got sunglasses on, him a hat and his own tinted frames. It's weird; he's got baggy designer pants on...the ones I don't really understand but I just accept...a tight t shirt, and a bracelet on his wrist and one of his pendants hanging over his shirt. Meanwhile, I'm soaking up the sun in a pair of jean shorts and one of his band shirts, feeling comfortable with myself since I've lost weight.

I must be getting old, because even I don't wanna ride all of the rides back to back like I used to. We wind up going on Splash Mountain, getting a little wet before lunch, so we sit in the sun at the same place Devin and I ate the last time I was here. It's funny, watching him eat a hot dog even though we know he's not supposed to, since he'll be back to filming soon, but I'm happy to enjoy the cheat day, myself.

"You know," I tease, picking at his fries after I finish my own, and he hums in response, swatting my hand away. "This is where Dev and I were the day you first tweeted me."

"How in the hell do you remember that?" he laughs, showing his teeth as he chews which is weirdly still not killing his attractiveness.

"Because when I came home my stalker made fun of my Stark shirt and glasses," I remind him, raising an eyebrow. 

"Which you haven't worn since then," he observes out loud.

Yeah, that's obvious...I've been solely wearing contacts. "And...that's why."

Slowing his chewing, he drops his fry back on his plate and tilts his head in question, his brow pressed together. "What, cause I saw you in them?"

"Cause you were kind of an ass about them," I mumble.

"Hon, I was just teasing you...it was our thing - I got on your nerves, your temper flared back. I only did it to get a rise out of you cause you're hot when you're expressive like that." He frowns, grabbing my hand on the table. "Rach, I happen to love you in glasses. You just never wear them."

"I don't need them, and I prefer my contacts," I snap, and he sighs. 

"Come on, you're really gonna be mad over this?"

"Maybe."

"You know I only came to dinner that night to see this beautiful, breathtaking woman I'd met the day before," he presses, rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand. "I was hoping she'd be there...and she'd be single and if I played my cards right-"

"You don't have to do this," I tell him slyly, smirking. "You already got your ring on my finger, Downey."

"Then stop being sad," he begs. "We're in Disneyland, this is literally the happiest place on Earth!"

"That...that would be in Pittsburgh," I counter. "PNC Park."

"Baseball?" he questions, and I nod.

"The fresh air and the sound of the people in the stands and the warm breeze from the river..." I sigh, forgetting the previous discussion. "Are you coming, by the way?"

"What, to Pittsburgh?"

Yeah, it was one of Devin's random events she had packed in on those sheets when I approved my schedule. Looks like I get to open with the National Anthem at a game later in the week, just before I end the week on a charity project back at my old job. Funny how things come full circle...

"Yeah," I confirm, taking a sip of the drink we're sharing.

"I have to show my face, remember? They're benefiting Random Act."

He's speaking about my work, of course. They decided to do something for the local hospitals, making gifts for kids who need them while they're in the hospital. You know, cancer patients, mostly...kids going in for procedures. I guess my ties swayed them to pick Robert's foundation as their charity to donate to this year. Now that we're engaged, guess they assume we're stuck together for real and are trying to guilt me into coming back. It worked.

Anyway...we spend the rest of the day wandering the park, Robert deciding it would be fun to harass Captain America for a bit. So, we skip the line for him and it's crazy how the cast at Disney dedicates themselves to their jobs, because he doesn't even flinch when he sees RDJ in front of him. Though we all do get a photo together, I let him know I'll post it online if he wants a copy of it. He stays in character, of course even then, but it's said under my breath as Robert waves to the line who are calling to him, and then he lets us revisit security to take up back up near the front, where we wait for the fireworks.

I've only seen the fireworks once before, so it's nice to see them again after so many years. It's especially nice when he sits on the balcony of a building they've allowed us to wait in and invites me to sit with him on the floor, looking out at the castle from behind the short railing. His arms hold me in place during the display, and he's whispering silly things in my ear and singing to the Disney songs on the soundtrack as they play, making me giggle and squirm in his grasp.

On the way home, I wind up falling asleep in the car, and when we get back, he squeezes my hand in his, which he held on the way, and gently wakes me up. I'm beat, and honestly all I want to do is sleep after walking all day. I don't know how he's still got energy... But he takes me to bed, leading me so I can lean against him with a yawn, and we're both out like a light.

The week itself marks my first few days back in the studio, actually working on concepts and ideas for things more so than actual music. Most of it is just Dave and I playing around, at least after the first day... The first day...well, that's a lot of gossip and questions on the ring and the proposal, this being the first time I've seen all of my band mates since Robert popped the question.

Once Thursday rolls around, though, we're back at the airport, taking the jet to my hometown after a few days of barely seeing each other. When we land, I'm going to be rushed to the stadium, and after the anthem I'm allowed to reconvene with Robert in the box they gave us. Jimmy and Devin are tagging along, which makes for a weird flight. They're sitting opposite each other on the one side of the jet, speaking in a hush, probably because Devin's been weird about telling me anything that's going on between them.

"What do you think about a Jewish ceremony?" Robert presses, tapping his fingers on the table.

I hum with my chin in my hands and shrug, glancing over at Devin. "Whatever you want, babe."

"And the elephant," he adds through narrowed eyes that I don't catch. "You're cool with the elephant as the ring bearer?"

"Yeah, sure..."

"Hon," he chuckles, but I'm too focused on being ignored by Devin. "Rach."

His hand rests on my arm next, pulling me back to the discussion about the wedding, and I take in a breath. 

"Sorry, what?" I ask.

"Okay," he sighs. "What's the big deal? Are you that worried about them?"

I frown, shaking my head and turning to face him in the booth. "No, I just don't get it. She's avoiding the subject all together."

"Sweetheart, you basically pushed her off in Malibu when you found out," he reminds me, and I roll my eyes at him.

"It's weird."

"It's just a fling."

"And when it fizzles out, I don't have the time to pick up the pieces!" I argue.

He raises an eyebrow, studying me. "You know, when we broke up, she was there for you without any questions."

"So?"

"Just show some interest. Ya know, that thing you're not showing me, either?" he suggests dramatically.

I twitch my lips, moving to take his hand on my arm in my own. "Sorry. Go over the wedding stuff with me again?"

Somewhere between California and Pennsylvania, we decide to make it a Jewish ceremony. Half my family is, and he claims himself to be...so it works out, I guess. I mean, like I said, I never really thought about a wedding so it isn't something that I feel strongly opinionated about.

When we land, we have a car waiting and we're shuttled directly to the stadium. My mom's meeting Devin out front while Robert, Jimmy, and I visit the dugout before the pregame stuff starts. The air is muggy, usual for Pennsylvania in the late summer, but it's warm, so I'm happy. Better than the spring games in the snow... There's fans of the players and fans of ours calling to us from the stands just over where we're standing, and I wave over to them, tugging on Robert's arm to have him do the same. He's deep in conversation about the jersey's they're handing us, his with Downey on the back, mine still with Thomas. He's upset about it, I guess, and wants me to wear a Downey one, too, but I gently remind him we're not married yet.

The nerves don't get me much, since I've done these before...just not while I've been so well known. So during the anthem, with the cheering, it makes me feel at home, and shortly after pregame stuff, I'm lead to meet Robert in the box he's already disappeared to, where we watch the game the rest of the night.

He's seen on TV, which I find out later. It's a clip of him clapping his hands together and bending back in laughing with a huge grin on his face as he talks to someone else seated with us. Jimmy, Devin, and I are sitting up front off to the side, focused on the game. It's okay...I like it when he's a social bee, so I let him do his schmoozing and he lets me watch my team play. At some point I'm on Twitter and Instagram on my phone, probably between innings, to post a photo Devin took of me singing, and then I'm back to my friends.

We're staying at my home, even if it's still small and quaint, and but Aero's with Devin and Jimmy at the hotel, me wanting to make sure he's watched over if we're going to have a busy few days. Well, that and because I just need a cat mom break.

Anyway, when we're driven back to the house and dropped off, Robert refuses to let go of me. He's tired, walking with his arms around me and his chin on my shoulder up to the door, which is making moving extremely difficult. He's like a parasite...but a good one. Do those exist? I guess so. Maybe... 

"Come on old man," I sigh when I open the door and try to shuffle in. "It's not even after midnight, you've been up later than this before."

"It's been a long work work," he complains. "And talking to that producer all night-"

"He was a producer?" I question, detaching him from my back and shuffling in.

He follows behind with a yawn. "He tried to pitch me a script. Told him I'd read it but I doubt it has promise."

"Ouch, Hollywood..." I tease, setting down my bag.

"What?!"

"You've got a big head again," I laugh lightly. "The Robert I love always gives things a chance. You're being picky and crabby."

"Damn..." he mutters, shocked to hear me tell him how it is.

"You're tired," I point out. "I'll give ya a pass."

He mumbles something, rubbing his eyes and kicking off his shoes at the door before locking it and following me into the bedroom. I let my hair down, then unbutton my shorts to undress, but he's quick to pout, his face dejected.

"Don't take that off," he begs, and I raise an eyebrow, staring at him in the doorway.

"I'm gonna take a shower," I answer slowly, pointing to the bathroom in the hall. "We have to be at the fundraiser early tomorrow..."

"But I wanna have sex," he whines in a childish voice and I can only blink.

"You are a forty nine year old man and you're throwing a fit over sex?" I ask. "You know that's not attractive, right? And doesn't sex mean the clothes come off, or am I missing something here?"

"You look hot," he argues. "The jersey, the shorts...it's got this school girl, varsity girlfriend vibe..."

My lips twitch as I try to contain my amusement. "So you have a kink for screwing younger girls, huh?"

"Sweetie, that's why I'm marrying you," he answers proudly. 

But it isn't exactly the most endearing thing, and I don't think he hears how it sounds, so I just roll my eyes again, not feeling it, and walk past him toward the bathroom. I'll strip in there, so he can't throw a tantrum over it. Lord, couldn't he just ask or make a move or something?

"What-" he quips, turning to follow me. "Where are you going, the bed's this way!"

"I told you I'm taking a shower, Bobby."

"But..." he protests, but I quickly close the door between us and leave him pouting outside. 

I turn on the water and the ceiling air vent and sigh, trying not to over react over something small and silly.

"Rach!" he whines again and there's a thud, probably from his head resting on the door. 

"You just told me you're marrying me cause you want a trophy wife!" I snap. 

"No, I said you're younger, but-"

"That's basically it, just cause I'm younger and you can show me off, right?" I call back, but he's still on his rant, trying to suck up to me now.

"-you're smart and kind and beautiful and mature and-"

"You're on a roll tonight, Downey."

"-I love you and I never thought I'd get to share my life with someone as talented as you and I can't wait for you to be my missus Downey..." he rambles off.

I let out another sigh, glancing at myself in this stupid jersey in the mirror. Thomas. It says Thomas. He's being quirky and a sap and I'm not even mad, I'm just tired. But we could both let off a little steam and it has been a few days.

"Baby, I'm sorry..." he adds quietly, even though this isn't a big deal.

So I finally break down and laugh, then quickly open the door and drag him in by his shirt collar, then pin him up against it when it closes and claim his lips in a playful kiss, his tugging up into a smile as he realizes he's won. His arms encircle me as he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss and then he bites my lower lip, making me squeak with surprise and he chuckles.

"So we can have sex now?" he questions against my kiss and I hum back, giving him the affirmative. "And the jersey..."

"Wet jerseys are better," I answer, hands reaching south for his ass, and he groans. 

"What part had you-"

"Missus Downey," I answer quickly.

He teases me the next morning about that as we get ready, since by the time I dried my hair and made it to bed after actually showering, he was knocked out in bed already. He honestly was tired, I guess, but that's fine. It was an adorable sight, him on his stomach holding the pillow with one arm and his mouth slightly open, per usual. I just slipped in and laid facing him, resting my hand on his arm and knocking out shortly after.

Devin and Jimmy rejoin us, and we dress decently... I'm in jeans and a nice top, Robert in jeans and a tight short sleeved shirt. It shows off his shoulders and slim frame nicely, and I have never wanted to undress him more, but I guess I'll have to suffer all day. At least he masks his pretty eyes with sunglasses...mostly cause he claims he has dark circles from being so tired...but I'd be lost in them all day otherwise.

We're quickly escorted by a couple building guards to a warehouse space with big, open garage doors to let the nice summer day in when the four of us are dropped off at my old work building. It's odd, being back, and there's butterflies in my stomach as I realize this is the first time I've revisited since I've made a name for myself, and the last time they saw Robert was when he showed up unexpectedly. I push it down, though, because the task at hand is the important part: making blankets and gift baskets for the kids at the local hospital undergoing treatments. Each one made is raising a certain amount of money from sponsors that Random Act will donate alongside them to the hospital, which is nice. And we...we are helping.

Anyway, we're lead to a stage of sorts that they've set up where I'm immediately handed a microphone, but told to wait a few moments which they finish up their main speech from the CEO. He basically instructs them on what they're doing, and how to take their lunches, and whatever else.

"So we'll just have you say a quick hello," Devin instructs, in manager mode again as she fixes my hair. "Just announce Robert, he can talk about the charity, and then we'll meander and until lunch."

"Got it," I comment, squeezing Robert's hand for good measure.

I used to be nervous about these kinds of things but now I'm not so much nervous about the presentation...just about seeing old co workers. Other than that, I'm comfortable with my own fame.

"Remember the last time we were together for a fundraiser like this?" I ask quietly, glancing at Robert at my side.

He smirks, nodding but staring straight ahead still. "I think about it every day."

"Why?" I ask with a wide smile, and he shrugs, trying to play it cool since he's still tired.

"That's the day I fell in love with you."

"You were serious about that?" I ask quietly.

We only hear the tail end of the intro speech from behind the set up and then the CEO introduces me, since I'm the alum, I guess...but I don't hear it because my heart's fluttering over Robert, instead. He holds his smirk, but his head finally turns toward me, his shoulder still back and free hand in his pocket.

"Rach," Devin nags in a whisper nudging me, but I ignore her.

Instead, I stand on my toes to give him a soft kiss, lingering for a second before pulling away.

"I love you..." I whisper against his lips, which encourages him to peck another small kiss on my lips before nodding ahead at the stage where they're waiting for me.

So, I straighten up and flip the switch to my stage presence...sort of like the attitude I have at my shows, just a little kinder since there's only like maybe two hundred people here? I'm impressed with myself, to be honest. Maybe it's the couple of tours, or the interviews, or Robert or befriending people like Taylor, but damn, we really are a power couple aren't we?

"Hi!" I greet as I walk out with my jaw dropped in mock excitement of being here. "Oh my God, this is so weird being back!"

I bend over as I walk, laughing with the excitement of the reception I'm getting. Applause, just like the shows...but kind. Not over the top just...friendly.

When I make it center stage, I sigh, scanning the people gathered. They're faces I recognize..some I know by name, some I never really talked to and only saw in passing. But it's comforting to at least feel familiar, so it's easy to raise the mic back up to my lips.

"I'm so happy to be here to help with this, because I never missed one of these things while I was here..." I tell them sincerely as I recall the annual event I had to partake in, "but I want you all to know we'd be helping out even if this wasn't working with Bobby's charity this year."

I shift on my feet, glancing down as I think for a moment. 

"Thank you for asking me to come back and help out, though. And for thinking of all of the kids who can use these gifts we're going to be making," I add, gesturing to the pile of supplies to the side.

Then I glance to my side, smirking at Robert again, who's standing with Jim side stage.

"So I had to drag him out of bed before his alarm went off and he was not happy about that," I giggle, "but he was so excited that I didn't have to try hard to convince my fiance to get his butt here, so..." I begin, motioning toward him. "Are you gonna come say hi?"

"I would love to," he states, shoulders back as he unhooks his hands from in front of him.

I lift an eyebrow as he hops on stage with only a smirk. It's hard to read him, but I know he actually is exhausted after the late night at the game last night...I knew that the second he was knocked out before I even made it into bed after my shower.

Anyway, I hand off the mic to him after he pecks a kiss on my cheek, and then stand straight as he slips his free arm around my waist. The warmth radiating from him gives me confidence in front of these people who may or may not have liked working with me. I just wish he wasn't so run down...but I'll let him nap later.

"You know I was here once," he starts in good humor, motioning with his hand like he always does after giving me a slight squeeze and stepping forward. "A couple years ago, under different pretenses...to surprise this one, actually," he clarifies, sharing a glance with me which I blush at, biting my lip. "I got to meet some of you, some of your faces are familiar..."

Then he clears his throat, tilting his head up and stopping at the front of the stage. It's that pose, that command for everyone's attention without actually saying anything. He captures the room so well, and it makes me proud.

"This is a cause that is very near and dear to my heart," he states seriously. "You know, all joking aside...as Tony Stark, I get to visit these kids all the time. You have these amazing, strong willed, passionate kids who don't deserve to be in the situation they are, yet they make the best of it and never ask anyone for anything else. So this project...these gifts...trust me, they will be appreciated, and they will be utilized."

He shoves his hand back in his pocket, turning his torso back to me but keeping his feet in position. He wiggles his eyebrows, making me grin.

"So, what do you think, love? Should we kick this thing off?"

I turn my chin up and smile kindly, hands together behind my back and wait patiently. Honestly, he can talk as long as he'd like...he looks great from behind and my thoughts are just wandering to last night and the reason he's still worn out... To his hands in my hair and my back against the cool shower wall, his tongue in my mouth and his groaning vibrating against my mouth.

"Rach?" he laughs, an eyebrow raising, and I shake my head to clear it.

"Yeah," I manage, nodding. "Yeah, we'll uh...we'll be around to help out, and we'll let you know when lunch is here!"

He hands the mic back to the CEO who joins us on stage for a photo. Jimmy takes one of us for Instagram after that and then we split up to make sure we can greet each person before lunch. Devin wanders with me, Jimmy with Robert, and it's a very long morning of learning about each person and where they work with this part of Capital One. 

A couple are older, who don't really listen to new music but do know of me. Several don't really believe I worked here, but it's okay. Sometimes it's like a completely different life to me, too. I still take photos with each person, and there's signed albums in little gift bags for them when the day's over, which I'm glad we decided to do even though it took a few hours to make sure I signed enough.

But one is a younger girl who is new, and it turns out she's a fan of mine and Robert's. She's shy, though, but I sit and help her fold some stuff as Devin takes photos for publicity purposes.

"I haven't been to a show, but I did buy both of your CD's," she tells me. "You really worked here?"

"I did," I laugh. "I left about three years ago."

"What department?" 

"Accounting. The complete opposite of what I do now. But uh, hey, next tour in a couple years, how about I send you tickets?"

"Really?" she asks, her face lighting up, and I nod. 

"Yeah. I'm not sure when it will be yet, but there will be one sometime after the wedding."

"Can I ask you what he's like?" she questions.

I sigh, setting down what I'm working on as I think. "He's my better half, he really is... He's very motivated for success and he's got the most creative brain I've ever seen. He's a romantic. But he can also be a handful, especially when he gets ideas in his head that he won't take no for an answer to."

She laughs, glancing at him, and I do the same. 

"Don't worry," I follow up, "he'll make his way over and you can say hi."

We exchange a few more words before I stand and say goodbye to her, ready to move on. But Devin wants a bathroom break, and I want a few moments with Robert after that, so I step over to him after stretching, patiently waiting for a moment before interrupting the photo he's taking with two guys.

"Hi," I cut in somewhat shyly, hands together. "Mind if I steal my fiance for a moment?"

Thankfully the two nod and shake his hand goodbye, and then return to their station. I wait till we have a little bit of space to talk privately, then let my hands rest on his shoulders, massaging lightly. He sighs at the contact, but smiles tiredly. 

"How you holding up, big shot?" I tease, then gently pull the sunglasses from his eyes so I can see them.

They're sleepy and dark, but he smiles nonetheless when I put them on my own face, grinning back at him.

"Hanging in there," he answers kindly.

So I lean forward and give him a soft kiss on the lips, then one on the cheek in his scruff. "Thank you for putting up with my schedule this week."

"Anything for you, love," he hums back. "Mine's usually much worse, I owe ya one. Plus, I like being your escort sometimes. Nice break from the spotlight on me."

"You can take a long nap later," I promise. "And I happen to know the best place to fall asleep to a foot rub, too."

"Do you?" he muses, eyebrow raising as I let my arms lock around his neck.

"Mhmm," I smirk. "Trust me, best place in the whole house."

"And where would that be?" he asks lazily, his hands finding my waist.

"On the couch..." I draw out, toying with his hair, per normal, "with me and a glass of wine and a movie on."

His lips twitch up into a soft smile, his eyes closing for a second. 

"That sounds heavenly," he agrees. "I might steal a sip of that wine."

"Yeah?" I chuckle, but I lean in to give him a soft kiss before he can answer, so he only mumbles into it in response.

"Just a sip."

"Hmmm..." I think out loud, pecking another lazy kiss on him while I ponder that idea. "I've never tasted you and wine together before... I like that idea."

With that he laughs lightly and breaks our kiss, looking down at my with a smirk. "You're all wound up today, what's up?"

"You just look nice," I defend. "This whole tight t shirt thing...it's sexy."

"Just as sexy as no shirt, or..?"

I can't help but giggle, kissing him again, but it's short lived.

"Rach?" I hear next, but it isn't from him.

So I let myself down from standing on my toes to reach him and turn to see none other than my old work buddies, May and Jack, standing with guilty smiles plastered on their faces. I can't help but let my shoulders drop, relaxing after realizing it isn't someone else I have to be proper around.

"God, it's so good to see you!" I admit, pulling both of them in for a hug, respectively. "What, it's been-"

"About a year," Jack calculates.

"And lots of changes, I see," May jabs, stealing my hand. "Look at that rock on your finger!"

I glance back at Robert, giggling as he smirks, stealing his sunglasses back off of my face to hang off his shirt collar. I playfully glare at him, but turn back to my friends who still have my hand outstretched. 

"Rachel Downey, huh?" she teases, and I blush.

"Looks like that's what it's gonna be!" I agree when I finally get my hand back.

"I can't believe it," Jack says with a shake of his head, and May nods to back him up.

Taking a breath, I lean back against his side, snuggling under his arm with one hand on his chest and smile. "He's the love of my life..."

I can feel his hand squeeze my hip, but he doesn't respond to my compliment. Instead, he's reaching out a hand to shake each of theirs, greeting them again for the first time since that convention. 

"I hope it's okay that I've stolen her away," he jokes, and they hear it as one, thankfully.

"We just want her to be happy," Jack answers for them both, and May nods her head.

"Are you here for long?" May asks next, and I toss my head back and forth on it's shoulders. 

"Yes and no. Robert, you're off to Toronto, right?" I ask, patting his chest and he nods. 

"In the next couple of days, yeah. Just some press with Jon, you don't need to go if you want to hang around here. Then we're off to New York, so..."

"Well, it's Labor Day weekend...would you want to stop by our party on Monday? I'll keep it low key, it'll be a surprise to everyone else," May suggests. "I know we're supposed to be working here, so not a lot of time to chat, but it would be really nice to catch up."

"Yeah," I agree kindly. "Yeah, I think I can swing that. I know I'll be seeing my mom, but I can make Monday work." 

Robert approves of this plan, and soon after that, we're called to lunch. We have plans for dinner after leaving for the day, the four of us before Robert and Jim are gone for a couple days. I want to see my mom, but it still hasn't quite worked out, so we'll make a stop by tomorrow. Robert's exhausted, and quiet, so I know he's still on edge. That, and I promised him movie night and some other things, so both of us are ready to relax when we get home.

"You're right," he sighs, head back on the pillow with his eyes closed and an arm outstretched above his head, the other over his bare stomach stomach; he's taken off everything but his jeans and necklace. "This is the best place for a foot rub..."

I smirk, still working his bare foot in my hands, neither of us really watching whatever's on TV. "Don't get use to it, I don't usually do this."

He groans, fake upset by that. "Don't say that...you have hands of gold."

"I have no idea what I'm doing," I laugh lightly.

He chuckles back, sighing again. "The internet would get a kick out of this. Two millionaires falling asleep before ten, you giving me a foot rub..."

"I'm just being nice. You looked exhausted today."

"I don't know what's up, I just feel like I haven't slept in ages, which isn't true..." he tells me softly. 

But then he peeks an eye open at me, catching my raised eyebrow when I look his direction. He grins, showing his perfect white teeth, and I shake my head, focusing on my hands again and his cute foot in them.

"What?" I bite.

"So, love of your life, huh?" he teases, recalling my words earlier.

I roll my eyes back. "I am marrying you, aren't I?"

"Yup!"

"So why are you so surprised?"

"Just never heard you say it that way before," he answers. 

"Is it a problem?" I press, but he shakes his head against the pillow.

"No." A pause while he thinks. "Just strange how things happen, you know? You, me..."

Now he's agreeing with me? "Yeah, I've been saying that forever. I'm a nobody."

"Not...not status," he argues. "Just the fact that the love of your life is seventeen years older than you. We're almost in two separate lives."

I set his foot down, sighing myself. "But we're not. We have one life, together."

"I know," he laughs, "I just mean it's interesting thinking about shit like that. Two people being meant for each other or whatever."

"Well," I start, squeezing his leg on my lap, "I don't know why. But I know you're my comfort. There's a part of me that needs you like I need air, and I can't explain why or how that happened, but when I'm here with you, I feel safe. And maybe you're older, but that's just how it is. We connect. Our history, our celebrity, now..."

"We connect really fucking well in the bedroom" he jokes with another wide grin and I shove his leg slightly. "What?!" he gasps. "Tell me one time you've ever left bed unsatisfied. Go."

I snicker, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably.

"Ah!" he declares. "See, can't do it!"

"You're not getting laid tonight, Downey," I toss back with a smirk and then a small yawn. "I'm way too tired..."

My yawn catches him in a yawn and he smiles sleepily, silently agreeing. "I can wait..."

Thankfully, he doesn't ask for me to keep up the massage and instead invites me to lay with him and watch the rest of the movie. It's nice, my cheek against his bare chest, warm underneath me. He's always warm, but it's warmer than usual right now, and I relax into it, listening more to his heart beat than the audio on the TV. I guess it is funny, but I wouldn't change a thing. The spotlight when we're out and about or these relaxing nights at home like a normal couple. This is becoming normal. This is becoming my life...our life.


	127. Chapter 127

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Feel like I'm rushing this, idk. Been falling asleep writing cause I've been so busy with stuff. Repainting the suit, got some local theater appearances to do as soon as I get back from LA. Literally, the same day. Gonna be running on west coast time, land around 1pm, heading to the theater from 6-8, then another theater to actually WATCH the movie at 10...I'm gonna be awake for like 24 hours. Also, happy birthday, Roberto!!!

"Anyone home?!"

The door's open, the windows up. It's a typical day at my mom's house. I guess she isn't worried about Charlie anymore, which is good.

I drop my keys on the counter in the kitchen and sigh, Robert close behind. "Yo, mom!"

"Yo?" Robert huffs, and I feel my face heat up. "What are you, like fifteen?"

"Says the one trying to stay hip and cool to fit his part on screen," I toss back, but then I'm interrupted by the rushing of fifty pounds and fur as the dog jumps on me, excited. "Oof! Hey, doggo. Missed ya."

"Sorry, I should've put her outside," my mom sighs as she followed close behind, remembering Robert hasn't been around her much. 

Still, he crouches down and takes my spot with the dog to say hello, and I trade off, standing to hug her hello.

"Sorry I couldn't come to the game," she tells me over my shoulder, then releases me to hug Robert when he stands tall again. "Well, hello to my new son-in-law," she sighs. 

"Mom," I groan, rolling my eyes, and she scowls at me when she lets him go. 

"Hey, I've been waiting a long while to say that."

"My bad," he grins stupidly. "Guess I chickened out a few times..."

"Imagine that," I gasp playfully. "Big ego movie star too afraid to ask a question."

"Not a question," he protests. "The question!"

"Well, let's see it!" my mom requests, so I let her examine the ring like everyone else has. "Holy shit," she gasps when she sees it. 

I raise an eyebrow, watching. "Haven't you already seen photos?"

"Yeah, but this...this is breathtaking in person," she exhales.

I shake her off, retrieving my hand, but rest it on Robert's shoulder instead, squeezing lightly. "So it looks like the house was fixed up nice, doesn't it, Roberto?"

He smiles back at me kindly, and then my mom nods toward the living room for us to join her while she finishes up laundry.

It's just a quick stop for lunch before I take him to the airport tomorrow, but I promise her I'll be back, planning to hang out with her on Sunday before May's party on Monday. Then Robert's flying back, we'll probably share an evening with her, and then we're off to New York together. Life's gonna get crazy after this.

After lunch when we make it back to the house, we wander into my kitchen, Robert giving light kisses on my lips with his hands on my waist. There's nothing to do, for the first time in a while, and he's reminding me of that as he walks me back to bump my ass against the island counter.

"We've got an empty house," he mumbles, igniting a fire in my stomach, "and no where to go and nothing to worry about..."

"Your flight leaves early," I remind him as he nips at my neck, and my hands delicately rest on his shoulders. 

I close my eyes, focusing on his touch and his lips against my neck, warmer than usual. In fact, he himself feels warmer than usual, but he swears he's just tired...

"It's only four," he begs. "We'll go to bed at ten, gives me seven hours..."

"You sound so old," I laugh in teasing, but that's cut short when he growls and bites my neck and I gasp out the last word, nails digging into his shoulders again.

"Call me old one more time," he threatens, just like he did in Malibu forever ago.

"You can get...a senior coffee...from the drive thru tomorrow," I stutter.

With that, he takes one arm and clears my counter behind my back, sending the couple decorations and dishes on the drying rack to the floor...thankfully, it's nothing glass or fragile. His hands are quickly under me, discarding my shorts and then he's lifting me up to sit me down on the counter. I guess that's hot in my mind, because I'm quick to drop his pants and wrap my legs around his waist and get straight to the point.

At some point, we undress completely and decide to share a tame shower. He's decided to finally shave off his Tony look for this movie he's going to be filming, and I grumble, upset that it's gone, tossing on a robe and heading back to the kitchen to get some water. 

The bad thing about not wearing clothes, though, is when you have unannounced house guests. Devin has a key, yeah, but not like she's used it recently..until now. 

She comes straight into the house as I take a sip of water, slamming the door behind her, and I nearly jump out of my skin, splashing water don the front of my silk robe. She doesn't seem to care, though.

"Good, you're home," she growls, sitting down at the island. "I'm done with guys. They suck and I've decided I'm becoming a lesbian."

I ponder that for a moment, tilting my head. Then I respond, level voice as I take another sip.

"You know, I always thought this day would come, but-"

"Not funny!" she snaps. "I'm just saying, I'm done dating. Guys are more complicated than girls."

Thankfully, I don't need to respond. Instead, Robert's opening the bedroom door to find me, and what do you know, he's still stark ass naked from his shower.

"Rach, bed, now. I'm ready to go, let's try that one-"

"Company!" I shout, blushing madly when Devin's jaw drops and she stares. "Dev!"

She shields her eyes when I snap, but not after getting a good peek. Robert rolls his eyes, retreating back into the bedroom with absolutely no shame. Oh, did I say thankfully? Well, maybe not for us, but for Devin... She definitely appreciated that.

"You put him naked in front of me, a girl's gonna stare!" she yelps back, staring down at the counter top. "What the hell is he-"

"You didn't tell me you were coming over!" I manage when she lifts her head and looks me up and down.

Then, she notices the bare counter top and glances at the floor, pushing off of it and fake gagging. "Come on!"

"We're adults!" I defend. "And we thought we were having date night!"

"You two really are into some strange shit, aren't you?!"

"No!" I gasp, face deepening red. "We just-"

"'Try that one'," she mocks. "New positions? Kinky."

"Devin-" I groan, but she keeps it up.

"Does he do that one thing with his tongue that Jimmy-"

"I am not comparing sex details with you!" I cut her off urgently. "I don't wanna hear it!"

"I'm curious if they share tips!" she defends. "They're best buds, they probably talk about sex and-"

"I do not want to know if they're similar in bed!" I interrupt again. "Not at all. And didn't you just say you're fighting, or-"

She glares at me and I raise my hands in defeat, lowering the glass to the counter first. "We're done. Nada, nonexistent. It was a mistake."

"Okay, okay..." I mumble.

As if I didn't see this one coming. Now I have to deal with the clean up, right? That's why she's here?

Then Robert re emerges with his boxers on, hanging loosely from his hips, scratching his head as if nothing ever happened. He wanders over to the fridge in search of something to drink, then sighs loudly. We watch, waiting.

"We really need to go shopping..." he mumbles, then spins to face us, leaning back against the kitchen counter. "So, work stuff, or?"

"You're not in the least bit upset that she's seen you naked?" I ask, blinking, and he shrugs.

"It was bound to happen at some point. And it's not like she's getting a bad view."

"Not in a normal household!" I toss his way. "And it's my view!"

"Share the love, Rach," he grins, arms open. "I'm not normal, sweetheart, we've covered this. So am I needed, or...?"

"You might want to keep her away from Jimmy for a while," I fill him in with an eye roll. "Honeymoon phase ended."

"It's not my fault he's an ass," she snaps.

So I press my lips together with a frown. "I'm guessing you guys had a fight?"

"He had a fight with his lamp after I caught the slut he was 'Netflix and chilling' with sneaking out his window," she scowls. "Real fucking classy."

I admire her for her attitude toward these types of things. I guess it's why we've been such good friends. She's always strong. She takes it with anger or with reserve, me the opposite...I'm the crying mess, the one who can't function until I get the dramatics out of my system, as we've seen so far. 

Robert decides he's going to call it a night early and go hang out wit his buddy, so he changes and grabs his bags, then kisses me on the forehead before heading out. He tells me he loves me and he'll be back in a few days, and it's sad, yeah, but he's a sweetheart and I'll be okay.

Devin winds up spending the night, going back to her place for some clothes and to bring Aero back over. She's taking a mental day for herself the following day, sitting on the couch watching TV, but I spend most of mine with my mother. She comes over to sit in the dining room with me, with a big board and about a thousand photos of family members spread out on the table. I swear I've never even heard of half of these people, but she's insisting they should all come to the wedding.

"How many does he have coming?" she asks, and I blink at the board as I twirl a photo in my hand, admiring the gleam of the ring in the natural light filling the house from the open windows.

"I'm not sure..." I admit. "I imagine most of his co stars. His family, which we've met...and probably some of the distant family."

"I thought you didn't want a big wedding?" Devin mumbles from the couch, the cat yawning on her lap.

I sigh, sitting back in my seat. She's right. But this is looking more and more impossible with each passing day.

"Have you picked a venue?" my mom changes subjects.

I shake my head slowly. "I was looking for a nice place in California, you know, stay near home...but he wants to go international. He's got his heart set on Italy, I think..."

"Italy?!" she repeats. "That's half way across the globe!"

"I know..." I groan. "But mom, this place is beautiful, and we'll have to put in our reservation soon if we want to go there..."

"Rach, you know I don't have the money to-"

"Mom," I stop her, hand on hers. "I have more money than you can imagine."

"Gloat more, why don't you," Devin chips in.

I glare at her, then sigh. "What I'm saying is you won't have to spend a penny on the wedding, whether it's in California or Europe."

Eventually, she accepts that and we settle on a decently long list of guests. I narrow it down to just the family I've kept in contact with and some friends, but I'm well aware most of this wedding is going to be Robert's family and friends, and that's okay. I've never really had family, and I guess his is going to be mine, now...

Sometime during dinner I check out the photos of Robert interviewing from Toronto, walking the small, casual carpet with Jon to head to a panel and early screening of the movie coming out in the spring. He's got dark sunglasses on over his eyes again, and he's talking slowly. He almost sounds a little nasally, but when I text him about it, he declares it just allergies. I can spot a cold a mile away, though, and I'm quick to offer to stock up on meds for when he gets back, but he's dismissing it, telling me he's fine. He's just as stubborn as I am.

There's a video clip going around of him grinning stupidly when they congratulate him on the engagement. He thanks the girl, but then slaps a hand on Jon's shoulder and gestures to him, changing the subject to focus on the movie. He's so private when I'm not around, it makes me laugh.

"Rachel isn't here?" the reporter asks, and he smirks.

"She's at home," he tells her. "But the real story...the real story, is this man, right here," he tells them, hands on Jon. "A genius, a legend..."

"He's really talking about himself," Jon jokes, and Robert looks offended.

"Someone has to appreciate the art that is moi!"

On Monday, I'm headed to May's party. Devin joins, but she's acting more like security than anything else, I guess. She's in the quiet, thoughtful stage of the breakup, though she refused to watch anything of Robert I showed her because Jimmy posted it and she's still sour about him.

Anyway, it's your normal Labor Day party. There's food her friend is cooking on a grill. Family and friends hanging out with drinks on the lounge furniture outside. Tents and extra tables set up for dinner... Man, have I missed how laid back these simple things are.

"Your house is gorgeous," I compliment, taking in the nice yard and patio after the tour she gives me. "I can't believe I never visited before I moved..."

"We were busy," May shrugs it off, sitting opposite me in the circle of her friends. "You're here now. How's uh...well, how many house's do you have now?"

I scratch my head, laughing awkwardly at that. It's insane to hear. Yeah, four and an international penthouse...so what? Maybe five, I've been looking at Florida for Devin to use and a vacation home...maybe after the wedding.

"Um..." I start, swallowing nervously. "Well, we stay in California most of the time... Unless he's filming, then we're in Atlanta."

"Look at you...jet setting across the country," she sighs, taking a sip of her drink. "Where are you off to next?"

"New York," I smirk. "Then back to LA for the winter."

"Escaping the cold...must be nice out there..."

"Come visit," I offer. "We have a spare room and if you like the water, the yard's right over the ocean..." I mumble, pulling out my phone to find a photo I took of Robert and the alpacas a couple weeks back. "Here."

She takes a look, an eyebrow raised, but doesn't even comment on his lack of shirt...just waits as her friend comes and settles herself down in an empty chair.

"Hi," she greets, and I smile politely. "You're Rachel, right?"

"That's me," I nod. 

"I'm Denise, I'm a friend of May's..." he informs me, and I reach out to accept her handshake.

"Nice to meet you," I welcome.

She smiles softly back, pushing some blond hair back. "So you're the singer, huh?"

"I think so," I chuckle, leaning forward and accepting the drink Devin's offering when she sits next to me. "Thanks," I tell her, smiling and putting on a professional face. "This is my manager, Devin."

They exchange greetings as I take a sip, and then I ask about her. She tells me about her career - she's a vet downtown - and then she calls a few of her fellow co workers over, who gather and listen after she diverts the conversation back on me because I mention Aero.

"He goes on tour with you?" one asks, and I nod.

"He does! He loves flying, it's actually really weird," I laugh. "He has a carrier for the car, but he roams the plane."

"And the loud noise from the stage doesn't bother him?" Denise asks.

I shake my head, pulling my phone from my pocket as I feel it buzz. "He stays in the dressing room, so it's muffled... Sorry, just a second..."

I analyze the phone, fully aware of the weird silence that's fell on our group of girls since I picked it up. They're waiting for me to offer more information, I'm sure. But it's just a text...

TS: We're heading back tonight...allergies really messing with me up here.

I roll my eyes, answering a quick confirmation.

R: I told you you're sick

Then I put the phone back again, leaning in to Devin to tell her. "Bobby's coming back and he isn't feeling well...you wanna stay still?"

"I can head home," she answers. "Just make sure that cheating friend of his has a place to go."

I don't comment on it, only put my attention back on the girls to be polite. 

"Is that your lover boy?" May teases, and the others gasp.

May's used to it by now, having met him a few times, but the others...the others are not, and they immediately start tossing questions at me.

"Do you usually call him Bobby?"

"So the ring...that's really the one he gave you?"

"What's his diet like? Does he workout often?"

"Are you going to be in his new movie?"

"All right, all right, ladies, relax," I laugh, gesturing with both hands at the group that's now encircled us. "I'll answer questions, but all phones go away. I swear, she," I motion toward Devin, "will not hesitate to sue if she finds this on the internet. Got it?"

They nod eagerly, Devin rolling her eyes, but then I open my arms, waiting to receive.

"Let's have em."

"So it's not weird, that you're so much younger?" one asks, and I shrug.

"He's old," Devin jokes, and I giggle.

"He's experienced," I correct. 

One to my left hits with the tough questions after that. "So are you planning on kids, or..."

I fake a smile, trying not to think about it too much. "We agreed to wait till the wedding to discuss that."

"But the sex is...the sex is good?"

That one makes me laugh. It reminds me a lot of the time Devin found out we were dating and she immediately asked how he was and for details. I didn't want to give them then, but I feel more open now.

"Phenomenal," I praise.

"Has he taken you places?"

"Like for dates?" I question in response. "Yes. He took me to London for Valentine's Day."

"How do you handle him?" one asks with a blush. "He must be so hyper active..."

"Sometimes," I admit. "But he's usually calm at home, unless he's working on a project. Filming tires him out, though."

The one to my immediate left leans forward next. "So which of his characters is he most like?"

I laugh awkwardly. "Uh...probably Tony, but...man, I don't know! He's got little quirks from all of them!"

"I got one," May teases, clasping her hands together, and my eyes flare, waiting. "Is he a top or bottom?"

"May!" I gasp, but giggle right after. "Really?!"

"You said you'd answer questions, and after how many times we talked about that man at work-"

I groan, blushing madly and realizing this is my limit.

"He's...he's a bottom..." I mumble. "But he's definitely not bad at topping when he does. He's...he's just...the way his shoulders tense, and his weight, and..." I stutter, and thankfully I'm called back to my phone with a reply message.

TS: Promise I'm fine...just gonna take a nap on the plane and I'll see you in bed in a few hours. ;) 

R: i'll pick you up some tea for when you decide youre gonna admit youre sick...

TS: Love you, sweetheart. <3

"Is that lover boy?" May teases and I sigh, putting the phone away. 

"Yeah, he's just being stubborn..."

They let out a few 'awe's', but eventually let me take a break from answering questions because dinner is ready. Devin and I spend some time discussing what happened, but she doesn't fill me in on much. She's quiet, picking at her food, but not necessarily sad. I feel it coming, though...eventually. She diverts the conversation, instead jumping into plans for New York next week.

I promise May to be better about keeping in touch and thank her for the invite, then say goodbye. I have Devin stop at the store and send her in with a list of things I need for Robert, knowing his routine for curing illness since he doesn't want medication. I don't feel like being bombarded if anyone recognizes me, so I hang out in the car and look through Twitter, replying to a few tweets from fans saying congrats.

By the time I get home, he's already in bed, knocked out and asleep. His brow is furrowed, and he's coughing in his sleep. I know he won't admit it, but he looks like he's coming down with something. It makes sense, with how tired he's been. I toss an extra blanket over him, then strip of everything but my shirt and slip into bed beside him, careful not to wake him. He doesn't stir when I kiss his forehead, whispering an I love you and goodnight, so I turn out the light and settle down on my pillow.

Sometime really early in the morning, maybe after seven or so, I wake up to his shivering and pulling the remaining blankets over to his side of the bed. The sheets are damp, and when I yawn and rub my eyes and wake up a little, I notice he's glistening, sweating in his sleep. Yup, he's officially got a fever.

Great, just what I need before the con. Pre con gunk and now post con gunk, per usual. Ugh.

I wind up taking an early morning shower, then take for my back yard, deciding to do some yoga before he wakes up. My anxiety has been high and it isn't good for my blood pressure, that's for sure... When he wakes up we can discuss the fact that he's actually sick.

After the sun comes up, I head in and make myself something to eat with the rest of the oatmeal and whatever else is available from last time I was in the house, then grab the packet of fan mail I tossed in my bag, meaning to answer in Toronto, but yanno...change of plans and all. I leave it on the kitchen counter, deciding to check on Robert first. It's nearly eleven at this point.

"Hey, hon?" I ask delicately, knocking on the door frame before letting myself in.

Aero jumps off the bed from the bottom corner, expecting his breakfast, and I pat his head and promise him I'll feed him in a second before wandering over to the bed and plop myself down on it. I rest my hand on his back, him facing the opposite wall, and shake him lightly.

"Babe, it's almost lunch time...you gonna get up sometime today?"

"When my alarm goes off..." he mumbles into the pillow, stretching slightly before resettling.

"Sweetie, it's well past eight..."

"Okay, okay..." he complains, then blinks his eyes open at me.

They're red...and he looks like he's barely slept even though that's so far from the truth. His forehead is still shining, and he feels hot just through his shirt...which is damp from his own sweat. His now shorter hair is a mess, flattened and plastered against his head, curling at his ears, and the lack of facial hair is making him look even older than usual.

"I hardly recognize you without Tony's scruff," I joke, laughing lightly.

He smirks, but winds up closing his eyes again for a moment. "It'll grow back...just don't freak out when it doesn't tickle when I go down on you."

I roll my eyes, totally not in the mood with his stuffed up nose. "Oh-kay...how about we save the sex talk for later?"

He grumbles, then winds up sniffling and sneezing into his pillow, confirming everything.

"Are you gonna admit you're sick yet?" I sigh, hand rubbing up and down his back as he hugs the pillow to his chest. "It's eleven, you're still in bed, and you're soaking wet."

"I'm fine," he groans, "I just need five more minutes. Then we can take a shower and-"

"Oh no," I laugh, unamused. "Let it go, Downey...I'm not having sex with you right now. This," I state, motioning at his weakened state, "is not attractive. You're burning up."

"I'm fine, Rach!" he snaps, but winds up in a coughing fit, so I sigh, brushing his hair back from his face when it falls into his eyes. 

"I'm cancelling anything on your schedule," I protest. 

"No, I have a call to the charity later, and dinner with your mom, and-" he starts, trying to shift up, but then dramatically falls back down into a heap when he rolls his eyes back, suddenly dizzy.

"Now will you accept it?" I sigh. "Look at you, you can't even get up!"

"I'm not sick..." he pouts, voice muffled by the pillow.

"Bobby, you've been exhausted for a week, you're coughing, you have a fever..."

"It's summer, I'm always hot in the summer..."

"You've been trying to fight it off and not admit it, I get that," I inform him, knowing I do the same. "But you told me when to give in, so now I'm telling you when to give in. Your body needs to rest."

I push myself up from the bed, shaking my head, and pull the blanket over him.

"Sweat it out. I'll make you something to eat."

"You know, when you were sick, I was nice and caring and-"

"Oh, so you are sick?" I counter, and his lips twitch.

"...maybe..."

I can't help but chuckle. "All right, Iron Man. Just relax, I've got nothing to do till next week so I got you..."

With that, he hugs the pillow again and closes his eyes for another nap, so I let myself back out and go to make him some tea. Aero's meowing up a storm, so I pour him some of his cat food, and then sit at the counter while the water's boiling for his drink. 

The pile of mail on the table is looming, so I dive in, going through one by one. There's a short letter or two. A couple photos that are autograph requests that include self addressed and stamped envelopes, so I set them up to send back. And then one catches my attention, with familiar letterhead...an address in Pittsburgh I know a little too well.

Hey, Rach...

Before you set this down, hear me out. You told me if I wanted to contact you, write a letter. So I'm trying that. Yes, I sent this to your label and not your house, but I figured anything sent to Robert Downey Jr's house would be rejected immediately, anyway. Or sent to a PO Box to sit and eventually fade out.

I didn't quite get the chance to express myself fully before, so I wanted to do so now, in hopes you read this. I wasn't planning on writing, but with your recent engagement announcement, I just wanted to congratulate you, first and foremost.

I know you told me you can't forgive me, and I accept that, but I still owe you a proper apology. 

I think somewhere between the first time I told you I loved you and my own mental breakdown, I lost sight of what a genuine, positive person you are. You stopped being that around me, and I know why. I know I hurt you, physically, mentally, and emotionally. What I didn't realize was how it was affecting you. Stupid, I know. It's so obvious in hindsight. But I was blinded, and didn't see how much it hurt you. 

When you told me you tried to kill yourself, that broke my heart. You are worth so much more than that. You are worth everything that I wanted to give you and everything I couldn't give you because I was too focused on myself...too focused on pretending I didn't need help to acknowledge that you really did need it...because of me. I should have controlled my temper. I should have apologized more and loved more. I should have left when it was clear I couldn't do that.

I can't tell you I'm not jealous. Seeing you with him...it's a little weird, you know? After everything we talked about about him, whether it was you as a fan or you at the bud of your career...it's still shocking to me. But the plus side? You're you again. You're happy. He makes you happy. He keeps you safe...he kept you safe from me when no one else could. And if he's the reason why you have that light back in your life, then I want you to remember that you are worth all of that. You deserve someone who makes you happy, and I'm sorry I forgot that. I'm so fucking sorry that I took you for granted and that I never knew what I'd be losing until it was too late.

You are a special girl, Rach. You're a catch...the perfect woman, and I know you might hate this, but I'm going to hold onto those happy memories for as long as I can. You know, the ones before I stopped taking my meds? I'm back in therapy, I'm back on the medication. I want to fix myself so I don't break anyone else.

I guess what I'm getting at here is...even in my darkest days, I know I got to know you at some point in my life, so that made my life worth it. I'll suck it up and live with the outcome, because I created this ending. Just promise me you'll be happy and live your life the way it was mean to be lived with him. 

I love you, Rach. Guess I always will, despite how fucked up I am. I'm sorry, and thank you for turning me in...because I needed someone to set me straight.

Best wishes for the wedding, Mrs Downey...you've finally made it.

\- Charlie


	128. A/N

Just a PSA: I have ONE WEEK until I leave for the A4 premiere in LA. This being said...I may or may not get to update much until I return from that trip! I have family time planned, then the red carpet, then the movie marathon at El Capitan, and the day I fly home I'll be awake more than 24 hours because opening weekend I have to appear as Iron Man at a theater every night. I'm really sorry that I don't have more pre written to toss up for you all, but I swear I'm not ditching anything! How To Save Tony Stark is pretty close to an update, and I have chapters for Every Breath You Take layed out. Those are my main focus once I can update. Thank you in advance for you patience! (And as always, if there's anything you want to see written, toss it in the comments or my messages! Thanks!)


	129. I MET RDJ

I MET ROBERT DOWNEY JR I'M FREAKING SOBBING HE SAW THE DUCKLING FAN PROJECT SHIRTS AND CAME STRAIGHT FOR US AND JIMMY WAVED AT US AND HE SAID HE COULDN'T TAKE PHOTOS BUT SOMEONE GOT A PHOTO OF US TALKING I'M JEFNWKKEKEJ


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